God’s Infinite Mercy

Second Sunday of Easter
Sunday of Divine Mercy
April 7, 2024 — Year B
Readings: Acts 4:32-35 / Ps 118 / 1 Jn 5:1-6 / Jn 20:19-31
by Rev. Jay Biber, Guest Celebrant

Ancient baptismal fonts would be octagons in shape.  You’d walk in one side with moving water, a river flowing through, built separate from the church. You’d be received, and you’d have your old crummy clothes on, and those would be taken. Those would be left behind, and you’d walk through the water, you’d be baptized in the water, and then you’d be given all new garments. You’d be a new creation, a new person. And you’d walk out a different door than the one you came in, on a different side. You can see that still on the coast of France, the ancient churches from the fourth and fifth centuries, where you still see the octagonal baptismal font.

The whole idea of the octagon is that you have the week as seven days, but the eighth is the first day of the new creation. If you’re in France, they don’t say “I’ll see you in a week;” they say “On se voit dans huit jours,” we’ll see each other in eight days. That notion of the octave makes its way into the ordinary daily language.

Pope John Paul II and St. Faustina Kowalska had a vision of the glorified Christ; that’s what is described here, the glorified Christ. This is not the same as being resuscitated, as when a person “dies” during an operation and is brought back. In that situation, the person who comes back is the same one as the one who left, as in the case of Lazarus. Christ was able to resuscitate, to revive Lazarus, even though he was clearly dead for four days.

But the Resurrection is what we pray for when we say, “I believe in the resurrection of the body” in the Apostles’ Creed. Our bodies are so important that Christ took on a body in the Incarnation. We look forward to that Resurrection in our glorified body. The glorified body, what will it look like? Will it be an old one or a young one? God brought us into being from nothing, that’s how important our bodies are. That’s where a lot of our moral code comes from, the significance of the human body. And so, do you want your body to be a playground or a temple?

This great week of Easter is largely a story of mercy. St. Faustina Kowalska developed the Divine Mercy devotion. And for those of you not familiar with it, it’s a devotion that’s prayed on your rosary. Just like you pray your rosary, you work the same beads. You do the same beads with different prayers, and super focused on the Passion, the suffering that Christ went through for us.

What does mercy look like? The community of believers was of one heart and mind. No one claimed that any of his possessions were his. Think of it like this, if you eliminated the word “mine” from your vocabulary. They had everything in common, no needy person among them. Those who had property or houses would sell them and put the proceeds at the feet of the apostles, and they would distribute them to each according to need.

Now this is not the same as Das Kapital by Karl Marx; this is not some communistic thing at all, because it’s not taking the aristocracy and eliminating it and replacing it with the state with a lot of force. No, I think this is that, from having experienced mercy, having known what mercy was like, what mercy does to set us free. We have the instinct to protect and mark our territory; that’s evolutionary, that makes sense. There’s also that other competing instinct within us to go outside of ourselves.

I sensed it in that early community that when mercy has touched you, fear leaves you. And the stuff that you can’t do when you’re afraid, you can now do, when you not only believe in God, but when you can say with St. Faustina, “Jesus, I trust in you,” and entrust Him with the details of your life.

Can you imagine if you place yourself in that upper room? You’re one of the apostles who have made all the promises to Jesus, and the last He saw of you was your back. Peter, of course, collapsed once he heard the cock crow, for that exposed him, exposed all the shame of having dropped the ball in the one great moment that he had. Judas sold him out. The others had fled, and here they are gathered in fear when the Resurrected One joins them. Walks through the locked door. And what does He say now?

If I had like eleven friends abandon me like that, I’m thinking I might have some salty language for them. But no, Christ says, “Peace be with you,” of all things. And then it says the disciples rejoiced. We can rejoice in the gift that Thomas the doubting one, a scant twenty years after his own moment of doubt, brought his faith to India and proudly died a martyr, as did eleven of the twelve apostles, pouring out their blood joyfully for the sake of being able to bring the scriptures.

Can we really believe that God is that merciful? Are there chances that you can show mercy? I suspect that you will begin to feel that freedom and deep joy, because now you’re beginning to see through the eyes of Christ.

Ascend the Mountain of Prayer

Second Sunday of Lent
February 25, 2024 — Year B
Readings: Gn 22:1-2, 9a, 10-13, 15-18 / Ps 116 / Rom 8:31b-34 / Mk 9:2-10
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

As we journey through the Lenten season, the readings invite us to pause, reflect, and deepen our commitment to spiritual growth and transformation. This Sunday’s scriptures call us to embrace the call of discipleship, acknowledging the challenges and joys that come with following Christ.

The first reading, from the book of Genesis, recounts the story of Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice his son Isaac, demonstrating profound obedience and trust in God’s providence. Abraham’s faith challenges us to examine our own willingness to surrender our desires and plans to God, even when it requires great sacrifice. Like Abraham, we are called to trust that God will provide and to step out in faith, knowing that His promises are faithful and true.

In the second reading, from the letter of St. Paul to the Romans, we are reminded of the power of God’s grace to transform us from within. Paul writes of the assurance we have as heirs with Christ, heirs who are called to share in His suffering and glory. This passage invites us to reflect on the ways in which we are called to die to self and to live for Christ, allowing His grace to shape and mold us into His likeness.

The gospel reading from Mark recounts the transfiguration of Jesus on the mountain, where Peter, James, and John witness His divine glory. This extraordinary moment reminds us of the importance of encountering God in prayer and contemplation. Like the disciples, we are called to ascend the mountain of prayer, to seek moments of intimacy with God, and to be transformed by His presence. In these sacred encounters, we are reminded of our identity as beloved children of God and are empowered to live out our faith with courage and conviction.

There is a story of a young shepherd named David, who lived in a small village nestled between towering mountains. David was known throughout the village for his unwavering faith and his deep connection to the land. One day, as David led his flock to graze in the lush meadows, he felt a strange pull toward a distant mountain peak. Despite the warnings of his elders, David felt compelled to climb higher and higher, drawn by an inexplicable force.

As he ascended the rugged terrain, David encountered trials and obstacles along the way, but with each step he felt a sense of peace and purpose guiding him forward. Finally, after a long journey, David reached the summit of the mountain and there, in a breathtaking moment of revelation, he beheld a sight that filled him with wonder and awe. The sky seemed to open up, and a radiant light enveloped everything around him. In that divine moment, David experienced a profound connection to something greater than himself: a glimpse of the glory of God. It was a great mountaintop experience.

As he descended the mountain on the return to his village, David knew that he had been forever changed by his encounter with the divine. Though he could not fully describe the experience, he carried within him a newfound sense of purpose and clarity. From that day forward, David lived his life with a renewed sense of faith and devotion, sharing his story with all who would listen. And though some doubted his tale, those who truly listened could sense the truth in his words, a truth that transcended the limitations of human understanding.

In the gospel of St. Mark, Jesus’ disciples have been following Him and watching what He does. What they were seeing was the human side of Jesus, who was mostly healing people and telling them not to tell anyone, because He didn’t want to become known just as a healer. In earlier passages Jesus had healed a blind man and told him not to return to his village. He told the deaf man that he healed to tell no one. And He told the leper that He cured to tell no one anything.

In a previous passage in Mark, Jesus told His disciples that He would suffer greatly, be killed, and rise after three days. What kind of human leader could this be? So, to help His followers see more than His human side, Jesus took Peter, James, and John to a mountaintop to reveal His divine side. Even after that experience, Jesus wanted it to be a secret until after He had risen from the dead, because only then would His followers be able to understand that He was the Son of God.

The deeper meaning of Mark’s narrative for us during Lent is that, even after moments of transcendence and transformation, we must come back to earth, continue to hear the voice of Jesus, and follow Him on the way to the cross.

After the Transfiguration, Jesus’ followers had to leave their mountaintop experience and descend down the mountain to continue to follow Jesus and to do the more mundane things of building up the Kingdom. We too cannot continue to live on a mountaintop, but we have to come down to help build up the Kingdom. Like Peter, James, and John, we cannot remain there, but we have to come down to wherever we spend most of our regular life.

Jesus’ disciples did their part two thousand years ago. We must do ours in our home, school, place of work, in the parish, and wherever we connect with God’s people.

At Baptism, our ears were blessed to hear the Word of God, and our mouth was blessed to proclaim the Word of God. So, how is our proclamation going? Are we telling people about the way to salvation, or do we need to seek a mountaintop experience to set ourselves in motion? Just as Peter, James, and John witnessed the transfiguration of Jesus on the mountain, so too can we experience moments of profound transformation, when we open our hearts to the mystery and wonder of God’s presence in our life.

So, as we reflect on the readings today, may we be inspired to deepen our commitment to discipleship, to embrace the challenges and joys of the journey, and to trust in God’s unfailing love and providence. May we ascend the mountain of prayer, encounter Christ in His glory, and be transformed by His grace, so that we may shine as lights in the world, bearing witness to the love and mercy of our Savior, Jesus Christ.

A Very Good Friday

Good Friday of the Lord’s Passion
April 7, 2023 – Year A
Readings: Is 52:13-53:12 / Ps 31 / Heb 4:14-16; 5:7-9 / Jn 18:1-19:42
by Rev. Jay Biber, Guest Celebrant

There is a dimension to our faith that allows us to see and experience things in a way that’s deeper and contrary to the initial impression.  For instance, the very name that we have for this day is Good Friday. How can that be? How can that be, this greatest chaos, the unimaginable? The unimaginable is not that God rose from the dead, the unimaginable part is God in Christ died. He really did, that’s the unimaginable. How could this happen? This absolute chaos, and we call it good.

The letter to the Hebrews was written late enough in the first and second generations of Christians, for them to have had some time to reflect as a community, to absorb this trauma, and to reflect on it and then begin to develop a vision.

In the reading we just heard, “Son though He was.” When we are called son or daughter in baptism, it means you’re an inheritor, you’re in the will. I guess we would say everyone is conceived a child of God from that moment on. This familial relationship, this being a son, this being an inheritor of God, comes with baptism. God willing, it doesn’t end there, but begins a long journey, a great adventure of life.

Son though He was, He learned obedience from what He suffered and when He was made perfect. But wasn’t He perfect the whole time? In His mission and role as the Son of the Father, the first begotten of the Father, the mission becomes perfected in the obedience to the Father’s plan. The Father says this is what has to be done.

These people I love are yelling at me right now, are shouting insults at me right now, are denying they know me right now.  To bring these people whom I’ve loved from the beginning, to bring these people back up on the rails, back on track: This is the perfection. John even uses the word glory.

When I hear the word glory, I assume he must be talking about the Resurrection or maybe the Ascension. That’s the glory.  But no, when John writes about glory – “I will draw all people to me” — that’s not at the Ascension, that’s on the cross, the perfection of obedience. When He was made perfect, He became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey Him.

How unusual is this faith? We can’t really wish anyone a “Happy Good Friday.” Yet this is the day the work gets done. It’s a work that gets done not only so that we can benefit from it, so that we can take the fruits of it and be nourished and grow up in it and become an adult in it and become mature in it and go through a whole life with it as the mysteries continuously unfold and more will be revealed, always more will be revealed.

It’s not just so that we can benefit from it. The strange part is the work gets done so we can do it. We become perfected by that openness, by that obedience to the will of God. Accomplish in me, Lord, what You will. Accomplish in me, Lord, what You will, and let me get out of the way so You’re free to do what needs to be done.

What is so good about this day is of course we see disaster; we see the emptiness of it. Did you notice in the liturgy that there was no singing when we came in today? There was no singing because of the day. You realize something different is going on right now, and it is. But it’s a great gift.

I believe that if you can imagine it, you just say, Lord, I haven’t got this figured out now, and I’ll never get it completely figured out. But somehow, I’m looking at You and Your suffering. I’m thinking of the scourges, I’m thinking of the crown of thorns, I’m thinking of Peter’s denial, I’m thinking of the apostles running away. No illusions, but in that is Your glory. and when my heart becomes shaped over the years along Your lines, maybe I’ll be able to do something like that. because I will have morphed through Your grace into You.

I was talking to a parent up in Lexington a couple of days ago, and one of the kids is having a hard time and just feels that it’s impossible to be good enough for God. It’s funny how conscience works. I suspect parents can identify with this. With one child something happens, and it goes right by. With the other one, the same word is said, and it sinks in deep, and it alters things.

Similarly, I’ve seen over the years people who have a particularly keen conscience. We use the word scrupulosity when it really goes to the far end and becomes a serious problem. But some have a greater conscience than others and have a deeper sense that whatever their sin is, it is so serious and irredeemable that not even God can touch it.

This is what happened to Judas, as we hear in Matthew’s gospel. He felt that somehow his sin was greater than God’s grace could ever be. His sin was greater than the divine mercy could ever be, and so, he acted accordingly in his hopelessness.

Remember that God didn’t wait until you’re perfect to love you. That’s what we learned today. God didn’t wait for you to be perfect to love you. Yes, Good Friday is very good, because, as St. Paul says, nothing can keep us from the love of God.

The Matter of Sacraments

Fourth Sunday of Lent
March 19, 2023 — Year A
Readings: 1 Sm 16:1b, 6-7, 10-13a / Ps 23 / Eph 5:8-14 / Jn 9:1-41
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Our gospel today is about a man who was born blind.  What a privilege for the blind man to have met Jesus and be healed by Him!  What a privilege for him to have Jesus touch his eyes and bring him sight!  Yet who would think that a paste of clay put on one’s eyes and then washing in the Pool of Siloam would restore the blind man’s sight?  But Jesus worked through clay and water.  Jesus used ordinary elements around us in nature to convey his healing power.  Jesus gave the gift of sight by using matter.  The blind man could feel the paste of clay on his eyes; he could feel Jesus touching his eyes; he could hear Jesus.  He could feel the water washing off the clay.  He could not see Jesus, but Jesus came to him through touch and hearing.

In the first reading God works in a similar way.  Samuel, under instructions from God, anointed David with oil, and when he did so, the spirit of the Lord came mightily upon David from that day forward.  In the first reading and gospel, God’s power and healing were conveyed through elements of nature applied to the body and were conveyed through matter.

So, when Jesus comes to us, how does He come?  Every time we receive the sacraments, Jesus comes to us, and there is a visible sign of Jesus coming to us invisibly through His sacrament.  Just as the Holy Spirit came mightily upon David when he was anointed with oil by Samuel, and just as Jesus used matter of clay and water for the healing of the blind man, Jesus comes to us in each sacrament with matter used together with prayer, and we call the prayer “the form.”  So the matter and form of every sacrament is the visible sign of Jesus coming to us invisibly, but powerfully, in the sacrament.

In the Sacrament of Baptism, the matter is water, which is poured over the head to baptize and symbolizes washing.  And the form is that the priest will say the name of the person or the baby, and then continue by saying, “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” which is prayed at the same time as the water is poured.

In the Sacrament of Confirmation, the matter is the bishop using his thumb to anoint the forehead with Oil of Chrism.  And the form is that he says the name of the person and says, “Be sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit.”

In the Sacrament of the Eucharist, the matter is bread made from wheat and wine fermented from grapes.  The form is the words of the Consecration at Mass over the bread and wine.  “Take this, all of you, and eat it.  This is my body which will be given up for you.  Take this, all of you, and drink from it.  This is the cup of my blood, the blood of the new and everlasting covenant.”

In the Sacrament of Reconciliation, the matter is not something that we can see as in the other Sacraments, or something that touches our senses.  Instead, it is our sorrow and repentance and the penance we perform after receiving the absolution.  The form is the words of absolution prayed over us by the priest, which conclude, “And I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father (the priest makes the sign of the cross), and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

In the Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick, the matter is the anointing with the Oil of the Sick on the forehead and on the palms of the hands.  The form is a prayer prayed by the priest at the same time, when he says, “Through this Holy Anointing, may the Lord, in His love and mercy, help you through the grace of the Holy Spirit.”  Then he anoints the forehead, and he continues by saying, “May the Lord who frees you from sin save you and raise you up.”  Then he anoints the palms.

In the Sacrament of Holy Orders, in which deacons, priests, and bishops are ordained, the matter is the laying on of hands by the bishop on the head of the man being ordained.  The form, the prayer of consecration immediately following the laying on of hands, differs on whether it is a deacon, priest, or bishop who is being ordained.

In the Sacrament of Matrimony, the matter and form of the Sacrament is the mutual self-giving and self-acceptance by the couple as they hold each other’s right hand.

When David was chosen by God as King, the spirit of the Lord came mightily upon him when he was anointed by Samuel with oil.  When the blind man was healed by Jesus, the healing of Jesus came to him through being anointed with a paste of clay and washed in the Pool of Siloam.  He could feel the paste of clay on his eyes, he could feel Jesus touching his eyes, he could hear Jesus, he could feel the water washing off the clay.  He could not see Jesus, but Jesus came to him through touch and hearing.

Every time we receive the sacraments, Jesus comes to us by touching our senses, and there is a visible sign of Jesus coming to us invisibly in these sacraments.  Who would think that anointing with oil would be the signal for the spirit of the Lord to fall mightily on David?  Who would think that anointing with a paste of clay and washing would restore sight?

But God uses ordinary elements of nature to convey His power and healing to us in the sacraments, and in every sacrament, Jesus comes to us invisibly, but powerfully.  So, as you receive the sacraments, you hear Jesus and Jesus touches you.  Jesus touched the blind man and Jesus touches you when you receive the sacraments.

Raise the Bar

Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
February 12, 2023 — Year A
Readings: Sir 15:15-20 / Ps 119 / 1 Cor 2:6-10 / Mt 5:17-37
by Rev. Mr. Barry Welch, Guest Homilist

I was at lunch several years ago with a very kind priest, and we got to talking about a young man we knew who started missing Mass and avoiding church and the sacraments and prayer life. In fact, he was openly disagreeing with many of the Church’s teachings. I said, “Father, even so, he’s a good guy; he’s nice and thoughtful, kind and generous,” and as I was saying that, the priest started getting visibly agitated. And pretty strongly he said, “Deacon, I’m tired of hearing ‘He’s a good guy, or a good boy, or a good girl.’ We’re not called to be good; we’re called to be holy.”

So, I had to kind of think and take it back a little bit; one, it was uncharacteristic of his demeanor, but two, it made me think quite a bit about it. And in a way, in today’s gospel, Jesus is saying something similar.

Does it work for me to say, “I’m ok, I’m a good guy, I haven’t killed anyone.” That’s our goal? That’s our standard? That’s the bar that we set for ourselves in our moral and spiritual lives? Just to simply avoid the major obvious sins, and I’m ok, I didn’t kill anyone, haven’t cheated on my wife, haven’t bad mouthed God. I haven’t lied, at least no big ones, just little white ones.

No, brothers and sisters, that’s not the goal. Jesus says today, “I have come.” That’s pretty important, the Son of God has said, “I have come.” What’s going to follow? I have come to fulfill the law and the prophets. I have come to fulfill, to extend, to complete, to make perfect. I have come. I have come. He’s come to call us to something higher, something better, something more noble, something heaven-like.

He shows us that worldly dominance passes the closer we get to God, and it’s replaced with humility, and love, and mercy. He sets the bar higher and calls us, not only to recognize that bar, especially the thou-shalt-not bars, but to look the other way for our goal: to look the other way from that bar, and to look inside for the ideals, inside of us where He planted His Holy Spirit at our baptism.

Do I look at that boundary, that thou-shalt-not-kill, that murder boundary, and just see how close I can get to it in my life without crossing over it into moral badness, if you will? I stay safe on this side: I really want to hurt the guy, but I’m not stepping over the line.

Or do I hold in my heart the love of my neighbor, the love of the other, and of their God-given true dignity? Do I work to remove my anger, or my resentment, or my jealousy, and replace it with love? Love, wishing the good of the other, wishing for that person to join me in the kingdom?

The ideal is a high bar and it’s not defined by a list of borders, a list of boundaries, a list of what’s morally good and what morally isn’t. It’s not contained in two lists: Here are the do’s and here are the don’ts. The bar is a change in our hearts; it’s a modification of the direction of our lives and our love.

What must I do to follow Jesus, to be a good Christian, to become holy? Every now and again in my spiritual life I ask myself that question, and I imagine some of you have asked it as well; what am I supposed to do to be a good Christian? And oftentimes when I’m talking with folks in RCIA who are considering coming into the Church, they have that same general question: What do I do to be a good Christian, and follower of Jesus?

And in moments of clarity, very rare moments of clarity, I can give them an answer: If you want to be a good Christian, doing what Jesus asks is a good start. Pope Francis had a similar answer, and he didn’t ask me for any help when he came up with it. He explains, “So if anyone asks what one must do to be a good Christian, the answer is clear: We have to do, each in our own way, what Jesus told us in the Sermon on the Mount.”

We’re in the third out of four weeks of going through the Sermon on the Mount during this ordinary time. Two weeks ago, we did the Beatitudes: “Blessed are they…” Last week we were salt and light. We’re still salt and light this week too. Next week we have another reading from the Sermon on the Mount.

So Pope Francis says, “Just do what Jesus told us in the Sermon on the Mount.” That’s pretty easy, isn’t it? Pretty simple? Well, it isn’t quite so easy when we probably have to hear the message over and over. Let’s read about it, let’s pray over it, let’s meditate over the gospel of Matthew, chapters five through seven. Wash, rinse, repeat. Read it again.

Let it sink into our hearts, so they’re pointing the opposite directions of those boundaries, those borders, the “I didn’t kill anybody.” Because the message is love centered on Christ, and it is directed toward others, wishing, praying for the good of the other. It’s our relationship in the world. It’s salt and light, and it’s mercy, forgiveness and mercy.

Now remember, mercy doesn’t mean leniency. It doesn’t mean morally compromising. It doesn’t mean lowering the bar. When Jesus is giving His teaching today, you don’t see Him lowering the bar, He’s extending the bar into the heart. He’s not appeasing the social norms or the civil norms or the governmental norms of his day, He’s not doing it then, He’s not doing it today, because the ideal is high and we as Christians are bound to Him and our goal is heaven, our goal is to be a saint. That’s my goal, I pray that it’s your goal as well. It’s a very high ideal.

Mercy is there, mercy is available, sure, when we fall short of the ideal, when we miss the mark, which is another way to say when we sin. But Jesus and His Church don’t lower the bar, because it’s that important. Instead, we are called to extend His love, and extend His mercy, to live a moral life. We can’t do that alone; we cannot do it by ourselves; we need help.

And we get help, praise God we get help, because we’re washed of our sin and filled with light at our baptism, the light of Christ at our baptism. So that Jesus accompanies us and assists us because he becomes our moral compass and He is our only goal, He is our moral bar, and our earthly wish is to carry Him always in our hearts, because we don’t want to just be a good guy or a good girl or a good woman or a good boy. We don’t want to be just a good guy, but we want to be saints.

At the beginning of every mass, we have this opening prayer, when Father says “let us pray” after the Gloria. It’s called the “Collect.” That’s when we’re all collecting together and beginning the Mass, and that prayer is a summary of the purpose of today’s Mass. I want to repeat it because I think it’s beautiful: “O God who teach us that You abide in hearts that are just and true, grant that we may be so fashioned by Your grace as to become a dwelling pleasing to You.” Isn’t that beautiful? Praise God and amen.

The Sacrificial Lamb

Second Sunday in Ordinary Time
January 15, 2023 — Year A
Readings: Is 49:3, 5-6 / Ps 40 / 1 Cor 1:1-3 / Jn 1:29-34
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

Today our gospel reading relates the beginning of the public life of Jesus.  Christmas is over.  The child is grown up.  He has become a man and is baptized in the waters by John the Baptist.  This is a sign of His oneness with all of humanity.  He is indeed the Messiah; true God and true man.

Today we hear John the Baptist testifying that Jesus is indeed the Son of God and Son of Man.  Jesus is walking by and John says, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.”  He doesn’t say, “Behold the Messiah.”  He doesn’t say, “Behold the Son of God.” Instead, he says, “Behold the Lamb of God.”

Lambs are very important to a shepherd people.  Of course, we think of the lamb most of all when Jesus says that He is the shepherd, and the lambs hear His voice and follow Him.

This, however, is not what John the Baptist has in mind.  What John has in mind is something much deeper, something much more important.  He’s telling his followers that this is the sacrificial lamb offered at the time when the people were under the slavery of Egypt.  The lamb was offered that terrible night, with its blood placed upon the doorpost of all the children of Israel.  The lamb became the sacrifice by which all of them were freed.  This is the lamb who is the sacrificial lamb.  This is the Messiah who does not come with great armies.  This is the Messiah who comes to us as a sacrificial lamb, and as John says, who offers His entire life so that sins may be forgiven.

The word, sin, is very much used, but does not exist in any other language except Hebrew.  This word is a gift of the Jewish people, who recognize something very important in its use.  We think of sin as something that offends the ten commandments.  It’s not that.  We think of sin as something terrible that other people fall into.

Very seldom do we ourselves sin, because we think it is a series of activities against laws.  It’s true that if you break a law, you break a commandment.  If you break a commandment, that commandment is the law of God and therefore you have sinned.  But that is not what sin means.

Sin is a very interesting word.  It really means that you have failed to love.  God has given you His love, and you have turned your back on Him.  God has given you Jesus, and He becomes a lamb led to the slaughter to show you the depth of God’s love and to help you understand that when we say, “I have sinned,” we have not broken a commandment.  Rather, we have broken a promise.  We have broken a person.  We have nailed Him to the cross.

Sin is a failure to care, a failure to love.  It is not meaningful to simply say, I broke the sixth commandment, or the tenth commandment, etc.  When you sin, you break a heart, not only the heart of Jesus, but the heart of the person that you have sinned against.  This is why it is such an important word.

When Jesus enters the waters, He becomes one with us, walking with us through life, feeling the things we feel and hoping the things we hope.  He is every bit a human being.  When He does this, He’s coming so that He might take away all sin.  For if sin is a sin against the love of God, Jesus redeems us by His great love, not only for God, His father, but also for all of us.  It is in the love of Jesus that we are forgiven, for He never held it against us.  He never went away and hid, waiting for an apology.

Sometimes we think a confessional is where our sins are forgiven.  Forgiveness, however, begins in the heart of Jesus and there is no sin that Jesus Himself does not immediately forgive, because His love is so great.  When you go to confession, you come in contact, not with the judgement of God and being forgiven.  Instead, you should come to understand that when Jesus offered Himself on the cross for all mankind, the greatest love that a God-made man could offer His father, that all was forgiven to all for all.

This is the message that the gospel teaches us, and this is the message that we often forget.  Remember, that when we sin against each other, it is not merely the breaking of a rule, regulation, or law.  It is the breaking of another person’s heart.  We must realize that Jesus came only to love.  That’s why He said, “I have not come to judge, but only to teach you how to love.”

Jesus tells us today that He is the Lamb of God.  This means, of course, that He is the shepherd, and we are the lambs.  Through Him, we are to become the lambs of God, to become the sons and daughters of God, or as it says in the readings, the children of God.  The one thing that God calls us to do each day is to love.  Jesus teaches us each day that there is only love and that, if we sin, we take ourselves out of the one thing that is necessary for our heart, soul, and lives:  the fullness of God’s love flowing through us into each other.

This is why Jesus came and why today we say with great gratitude, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.”  He takes away everything that stands between us and the love of a loving Father, who has given us Jesus to show the way and, as mentioned in the gospel today, fills us with His Holy Spirit.

The Resurrection

Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time
November 6, 2022 — Year C
Readings: 2 Mc 7:1-2, 9-14 / Ps 17 / 2 Thes 2:16-3:5 / Lk 20:27-38
by Rev. Mr. Mark De La Hunt, Permanent Deacon

Many years ago, in a different parish, I gathered with a handful of adults to talk about the creed. That was the first time I learned that some people mistakenly think the “resurrection of the body” that we profess at the end of the Apostle’s creed is Jesus’. In fact, we are professing that our bodies will be raised on the last day.

Bishop Barron was reflecting on this miracle in his book, To Light a Fire on the Earth, and he referenced C.S. Lewis. C.S. Lewis dedicated a book to miracles, and in it he argued that of all the world’s great religions, only Christianity depended on miracles for its authenticity. He wrote, “The mind that asks for a non-miraculous Christianity is a mind in the process of relapsing from Christianity into mere religion (Barron 138).” Preeminent among all those miracles was Jesus’ resurrection. The resurrection of our bodies is at the heart of today’s readings.

In today’s gospel Jesus is countering the Sadducees’ disbelief in this. The Sadducees try to show that this belief is comical by asking which of the widow’s seven husbands is her husband in the afterlife (Lk 20:33). Jesus, by the Sadducees’ admission, gave a solid answer. First, He points out that after our resurrection, things will be different. We will no longer need to marry or to be married. In Moses’ time, a brother was to marry his dead brother’s wife to ensure she had children, and his brother’s name would carry on. But in heaven, there is no need for having children and therefore no need for marriage (Gadenz 340). Second, Jesus quotes from the book of Exodus, because it is one of the five books the Sadducees consider inspired by God. (He meets them where they are and then tries to build a bridge from there to the fullness of the truth.) He points out that Moses called God the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and says, “He is not the God of the dead, but of the living, for to Him all are alive (Lk 20: 37-38).”

Some things don’t change, and four hundred years later St. Augustine wrote, “On no point does the Christian faith encounter more opposition than on the resurrection of the body (CCC 996).” And as for today, many believe they will live on spiritually, but regarding our mortal bodies coming back to life too, maybe not so much. Jehovah’s Witnesses are one such example. However, bodily resurrection is a core teaching of our faith, and we need to believe it and be able to share it with non-believers.

Let’s start with God’s word “which is useful for teaching (2 Tim 3:16).”  In the first reading from 2nd Maccabees, a mother and her seven sons refuse to violate God’s law even when threatened with death, not even after watching how painfully the others died before the executioner got around to them. Why did they endure such suffering? The second brother said this, “The King of the world will raise us up to live again forever,” and the third brother added that he hoped to receive his hands again from God (2 Mac 7: 9, 11).”  Clearly, they believed that this life is fleeting, but there will be another and it is eternal, with their body, and without any suffering (Rev 21:4).

Peter Kreeft, in his personal reflection on today’s readings, points out that in the second reading, St. Paul articulates how the eight martyrs in Maccabees could find the courage and strength to do what they did (Kreeft 632). Paul wrote, “May our Lord Jesus Christ Himself and God our Father, who has loved us and given us everlasting encouragement and good hope through His grace, encourage your hearts and strengthen them in every good deed and word (2 Thes 2:16).”  It was in “good hope and through [God’s] grace” that the seven brothers and their mother were able to stay faithful to the end. Sounds good, but what is the “good hope” Paul mentions that we receive through grace?

The “good hope” is the theological virtue by which we desire the kingdom of heaven and eternal life as our happiness, placing our trust in Christ’s promises and relying not on our own strength, but on the help of the grace of the Holy Spirit (CCC 1817).” In other words, we hope in the resurrection from the dead, of which Christ was the first (1 Cor 15:12-14). And here is the good news. “If the Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, the one who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also, through his Spirit that dwells in you (Rom 8:11).”

Some of you may be wondering then, what happens immediately after death? Here is what the Church teaches. “In death, [which is] the separation of the soul from the body, the human body decays and the soul goes to meet God, while awaiting its reunion with its glorified body. God, in His almighty power, will definitively grant incorruptible life to our bodies by reuniting them with our souls, through the power of Jesus’ resurrection (CCC 997).”

Sacred scripture and sacred tradition speak so often of our bodily resurrection that, if we are not careful, we nod in agreement but fail to stop and, like Mary, ponder it in our heart (Lk 2:19). Obviously, the author of 2nd Maccabees pondered it, and six hundred years before Jesus was born, the prophet Ezekiel did. His words on the resurrection are prayed in the Liturgy of the Hours, “You shall know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves and make you come up out of them, my people! I will put my spirit in you that you may come to life… (Ez 37: 13-14).” God placed His Spirit in us at baptism. Thus, the hope of our bodily resurrection is solemnly symbolized by the white pall we place on the casket, reminding us of a loved one placing a white garment on our body when we were baptized.

A friend and Holy Name of Mary parishioner named John, experienced in a powerful way this past week this connection between baptism, death, and resurrection. Ten minutes after receiving Holy Communion, John felt a pain in his chest which then traveled up to his shoulder and down his arm. His arm went limp, and his hand clenched involuntarily. They took him to the ER. A nurse walked in and said, “They call me Princess and I’m here to get you started on your way.” This was very unsettling to John because he is fond of calling himself “Prince John” in light of becoming a brother of our most high king through baptism. John said he had this discomforting awareness during all this that his soul was up there and his body down here. Our priests anointed him and prayed for him. The tests were all negative and John walked out of the hospital feeling greatly moved by all this. He said, “I cannot stop thinking about it.” In other words, John was pondering it in his heart. God has called him to a deeper awareness of the mystery of the resurrection and through John’s story all of us too.

Here are a few closing thoughts. Our bodies are sacred. They are not disposable shells for our immortal soul. This is very evident at a Mass of Christian burial. We reverence the deceased’s body, either in a casket or an urn, by praying at their side, and if in a casket, kissing their forehead. Once the casket is closed, we place a radiant white pall over it, sprinkling holy water upon the urn or casket, moving the casket or urn to the foot of the altar and placing the paschal candle near them just as it was at their baptism. We incense the casket or urn in the sign of the cross, tenderly placing our hand upon the casket, or putting our hand on our heart while looking at the urn, as we come forward for Holy Communion.

From birth to death our bodies smile, laugh, cry, sing, hug, kiss, learn, sin, love, forgive, bring new life into the world, and are anointed with oil and blessed. It stands to reason that all this beauty and wonder of our body, that God took on in Jesus, would be just as immortal as the soul that animates it. For, as Jesus said, “I am the life and the resurrection…In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be. (Jn 11:25; 14:2-3).”   Amen.

Citations for Further Study

1. Gadenz, Fr. Pablo T. Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture: The Gospel of Luke. 2018 Baker Academic
2. Barron, Bishop Robert. To Light a Fire on the Earth – Proclaiming the Gospel in a Secular Age. 2017 Word on Fire Ministries.
3. Kreeft, Peter. Food for the Soul – Reflections on the Mass Readings for Cycle C. 2021 Word on Fire Ministries.

Come, Holy Spirit

Pentecost Sunday
June 5, 2022 — Year C
Readings: Acts 2:1-11 / Ps 104 / Rom 8:8-17 / Jn 20:19-23
by Rev. Nixon Negparanon, Pastor

There is a story about a young boy who went to the store on his bicycle to buy something, but there was no place to park his bicycle.  He decided to go to a nearby church and make a request to the parish priest and, of course, the priest granted his request without any hesitation.

The boy asked, “Father, is it safe here?”  He needed to ask, because he was concerned that someone might steal his bicycle.  The priest replied, “Of course.  The Holy Spirit will keep watch over your bike.   But first, let us go inside the church and pray.”  They knelt down, made the sign of the cross, and the boy said, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son.  Amen.”  The priest interrupted him, “My son, you forgot the last part ‘and of the Holy Spirit.’”  The boy said, “We should not disturb the Holy Spirit, Father.  He is watching over my bike.”

The Holy Spirit does not keep watch solely over bicycles.  Rather, He keeps watch over everything and everyone, especially over the disciples, including ourselves, whom Jesus leaves behind as He returns to the Father.  At the Last Supper Jesus tells them that He will send a gift from the Father, the greatest of all gifts, and that is the gift of the Holy Spirit.

The Scriptures tell us that fifty days after the Exodus, Moses received the ten commandments from Yahweh at Mount Sinai.  Yahweh presented them to His people, and the people pledged faithfulness to all that Yahweh expected of them.

We Christians celebrate Pentecost fifty days after the resurrection of Jesus.  It is the feast day of the Holy Spirit and the birthday of the Church, for Jesus sent His spirit over the disciples to empower them to live by His word.  That is why we are celebrating the Solemnity of the Pentecost today, the giving and coming of the Holy Spirit as a gift from the risen Lord.  Pentecost, in Greek, means the fiftieth day, that is, the fiftieth day after Easter, or the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.

Actually, the Holy Spirit had already been given to the disciples when Jesus appeared to them after the Resurrection.  He breathed the Holy Spirit on them by saying, “Receive the Holy Spirit.  Do not be afraid.”  But still, they remained sad, and afraid that what happened to Jesus Christ might also happen to them.  It was only after fifty days that the apostles finally realized that the Holy Spirit had descended upon them and they became courageous.

We, too, receive the Holy Spirit during our Baptism and Confirmation.  But why doesn’t it change our lives as it changed those of the apostles?  Why do we behave, in many ways, like those that are unbaptized, or pagans, as if we never received the Holy Spirit?  I guess the answer is because the Holy Spirit inspires us to do good things, but in the long run it is up to us to accept, ignore, or reject His promptings.

So now the question is, who is the Holy Spirit?  We know that the Holy Spirit is the third person of the Blessed Trinity.  He’s the love of the Father and the Son, present within God the Father and God the Son throughout all eternity.  When we want to describe Him, however, we have difficulties, for we cannot see Him.

The original word in Greek, can express the idea of breath, wind, or spirit.  Before the world was created, a strong wind blew over the water.  There was no life yet on earth.  Nevertheless, the earth was covered by God’s presence.  Even though we do not see the Holy Spirit, we are all aware that He is at work in our lives.  We cannot see the wind, and we do not know where it comes from or where it is going, but we see its effects.  The leaves on the trees rustle in the breeze.  Trees are toppled by its fury.  The wind gives speed to a sailboat and produces sound when blown into a musical instrument.

Our Church reminds us today that Pentecost represents God’s gracious, enabling presence at work among His people. This presence enables them to live their lives according to His teachings.  It is also a day to celebrate hope:  a hope that suggests that a knowledge of God, through the Holy Spirit, is working among His people.

The event also celebrates a newness, a renewal of purpose through the Holy Spirit and a mission and calling as God’s people.  Most of all, the day is a celebration of God’s ongoing work in the world which emphasizes the gifts of the Holy Spirit and provides a tremendous opportunity for churches to use this sacred sign to call for a renewal through the work of the Holy Spirit in their lives.

In closing, please join me in praying this prayer to the Holy Spirit:

Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful
and kindle in them the fire of Your love.
Send forth your spirit and they shall be created
and You shall renew the face of the earth.  Amen.

My Lord and My God

Second Sunday of Easter
Sunday of Divine Mercy
April 24, 2022 – Year C
Readings: Acts 5:12-16 / Ps 118 / Rev 1:9-11a, 12-13, 17-19 / Jn 20:19-31
by Rev. Louis Benoit, Guest Celebrant

In the gospel for today, I think we need to be in touch with the apostles in that closed-off room on this first Easter Sunday night. The gospel tells us they were afraid; they were in there because of fear of the Jews.  Jesus had just been crucified, and they were His followers. The Jewish people could be after them for the same reason.

Besides fear, there was probably a great deal of confusion. Jesus had been crucified. What were they going to do? Where were they going to go? They’d heard news about the empty tomb, but they hadn’t seen Jesus or anything like that. They were probably very confused.

They probably had a certain amount of guilt, too. In Jesus’ hour of suffering, they slept through it, and when He was taken away, they ran away. So there was probably a certain amount of guilt.

Fear. Confusion. Guilt. They were huddled in that closed room with the locked doors. In the midst of that, Jesus ends up standing among them. The first thing He says is, “Peace be with you.” And He repeats it.

What is peace? Peace is when creation is ordered as God would have it. The tranquility of order; that’s peace. Those people He was standing among were in serious need of peace.

Then He tells them, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” Jesus was sent, then He preached the Gospel of peace, justice, and love, against the reign of sin, evil, and death. And with His death and resurrection, it is now the responsibility of His followers to continue His mission. “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”

He doesn’t send them forth alone. He says to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” That’s another aspect of resurrection existence: The Spirit that animated Jesus in His lifetime, through His death and resurrection, is now passed on to His followers. And so they don’t go off alone to do the work of Jesus.  The very Spirit of Jesus is with them as they continue that work.

But before He says, “Receive the Holy Spirit,” the gospel says He breathed on them. That’s a symbol that could be easily missed. To understand that symbol, you have to go all the way back to the beginning: the Book of Genesis and creation. When God creates the human, He makes the human out of the mud of the earth. But the human only becomes human when God breathes God’s life into the human. And what that is a symbol of in Genesis is that the human is of the earth and of God. That’s how all human beings are: We’re of the earth and we’re of God.

The fact that Jesus breathes on His apostles is saying He’s breathing new life into them. They are a new creation in Christ Jesus. That’s the meaning of Jesus’ breathing on them.

He does that before He says, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” Thus they are commissioned to continue the work of Jesus.

The Bible is the living word of God for us today. So that’s not just written about the apostles on the first Easter; it’s written about us. Jesus says to us, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” Those are words to us today. And “Receive the Holy Spirit.” We have received the Spirit of Jesus in Baptism and Confirmation. That Spirit is constantly being renewed in Eucharist. And so this gospel is not just about the apostles; it’s about us and what our responsibilities are.

It’s also significant that we have the doubting Thomas in the gospel. Thomas who doubts: He’s not there when Jesus comes. They say, “We have seen the Lord.” And he says, “I’m not going to believe until I touch Him, until I feel the wounds in His hands and touch the wound in His side.  I’m not going to believe.”  A week later, Thomas is there, and Jesus comes. Thomas sees Jesus’ wounds, and he touched the wounds, and he makes the comment, “My Lord and my God.”

A lot of scripture scholars say that this Easter appearance to the apostles was the conclusion of the Gospel of John; the appearance by Jesus at the Sea of Tiberius was a later addition to the gospel. And so Thomas’ professing, “My Lord and my God,” is the apostles’ coming to full faith. Thomas is speaking, but it’s in the name of all the apostles, proclaiming the risen Jesus: “My Lord and my God.” It’s a culmination of their faith. It’s the final profession of their faith in the presence of the risen Jesus: “My Lord and my God.”

Of course, as we are called to continue the ministry of Jesus, we are called (“As the Father has sent me, so I send you”), with the grace of the Spirit we have received, to give the spirit of Jesus to others, and we can say like Thomas, “My Lord and my God!”

Prophets

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
January 30, 2022 – Year C
Readings: Jer 1:4-5, 17-19 / Ps 71 / 1 Cor 12:31 – 13:13 / Lk 4:21-30
by Rev. Louis Benoit, Guest Celebrant

In the gospel you heard last week, Jesus presented a grand vision of God’s plan for humanity:   God’s plan for humanity through Jesus, God’s presence among them.  The people of Jesus’ hometown of Nazareth at first were impressed – They liked it.  But then they started asking, “Hey, isn’t this the son of Joseph, the local carpenter?”  They go from seeing Jesus’ grand vision to seeing things from their local small-town viewpoint only.  In their narrow vision, they miss God’s presence in Jesus, and they resent Him.  That’s what’s going on in today’s gospel. (more…)