Caritas Christi Urget Nos

Author: Father Pat Mulcahy

  • The Fourth Sunday in Easter

    The Fourth Sunday in Easter

    Today’s readings

    Today’s brief Gospel reading begins with the wonderful line, “My sheep hear my voice.” Reflecting on that line caused me to wonder: how are the sheep to hear the shepherd in this day and age? There are so many things that vie for our attention, so many circumstances that distract us from everything important, that it would be easy to miss the call of the shepherd altogether.

    So that’s what I want to preach on today: What will it take for us sheep to hear our Master’s voice? We who are so nervous about any kind of silence that we cannot enter a room without the television on as at least background noise. We who cannot go anywhere without our cell phones and/or ear buds implanted firmly in our ears? We who cannot bear to enter into prayer without speaking all kinds of words and telling God how we want to live our lives? In a previous parish, we were praying before our worship commission meeting. The chairperson of the commission was leading prayer, and part of that prayer called for some silent reflection. I could see the uneasiness on his face, and pretty quickly, he moved on from the prayer. That’s not uncommon: we often find silence awkward. If even our prayer and worship are cluttered with all kinds of noise, how are we to hear the voice of our Shepherd who longs to gather us in and lead us to the Promise? Yet Jesus makes it clear today that entering into the silence and listening for his voice is the only way we can survive spiritually, the only way we can come at last to eternal life.

    Here’s a deeper question: how are we to hear the Shepherd’s voice if there are no shepherds to make it known? Today is the World Day of Prayer for Vocations. And I want to talk about all vocations today, but in a special way, I want to talk about vocations to the priesthood and religious life. Because these vocations, and especially the priesthood, are called upon to be the voice of Christ in today’s world. This is a special, and wonderful challenge, and I know there are young people in this community that are being called to it. We hear in today’s Liturgy of the Word that this task is not always easy because it is not universally accepted, as Paul and Barnabas found out. But it is a task that brings multitudes of every nation, race, people and tongue to the great heavenly worship that is what they have been created for.

    We know that every person has a vocation. Every person is called on by God to do something specific with their life that will bring not only them, but also others around them, to salvation. Parents help to bring their children to salvation by raising them in the faith. Teachers help bring students to salvation by educating them and helping them to develop their God-given talents. Business people bring others to salvation by living lives of integrity and witness to their faith by conducting business fairly and with justice and concern for the needy. The list goes on. Every vocation, every authentic vocation, calls the disciple to do what God created them for, and helps God to bring salvation to the whole world.

    On this Mother’s Day, we can see in our Blessed Mother, the model of living our vocation. Through her fiat, she embraced the Father’s will for her, and put her life in his service. Just this past week, we saw a Cardinal priest from our own metropolitan area become the successor to Saint Peter, our new pope. I don’t think that he would have seen that coming when he was studying for the priesthood in the Augustinian order, and I don’t know if any of us foresaw ever having an American pope, but his vocation called him to that service, and he said yes, his own fiat to God’s will.

    What about you? Are you doing what God wants you to do with your life? Maybe your answer won’t require a radical change; it certainly won’t require you to become the pope! Maybe it just means you renew your commitment to your family, your work, your life as a disciple. But if you’re a young person out there and have only been thinking about what’s going to make you successful and bring in lots of money, maybe God is today asking you to stop thinking only of yourself and put your life’s work at the service of the Gospel. Maybe you’ll be called on to be a teacher, or a police officer, or a health care professional. And maybe, just maybe, God is calling you to enter the priesthood or religious life. On this day of prayer for vocations, I’m just asking you to pray that God would make his plans for your life clear to you, and that you would promise God to do what he asks of you. I can tell you first hand that nothing, absolutely nothing, will make you happier.

    Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

  • Friday of the Third Week in Easter

    Friday of the Third Week in Easter

    Today’s readings

    Saul and Ananias are proof that God has an interesting sense of humor. I think we saw a little bit of that out of Rome yesterday as well. How many of us grew up hearing “there will never be an American pope?” And God said, “Oh yeah? Hold my miter!”

    This is proof that God’s ways are not our ways. How is it that God would pick for one of his chief Apostles a man who imprisoned and murdered the followers of the Christian Way? That had to surprise even, and perhaps especially Saul, whose life was turned completely upside-down. Poor Ananias had to be quaking in his boots to carry out this command of the Lord. But thankfully both Paul and Ananias were obedient to the Lord’s command, and we are the ones who have benefited from that. Not only has the Word of God been passed on through their faithfulness, but we see in their lives that obedience to God’s will, while it may not always make sense, is the way that true disciples live.

    And true discipleship is beginning to be an issue in the Bread of Life Discourse from the sixth chapter of John’s Gospel. We’ve been hearing it all week. Jesus has fed the five thousand, and they continue to clamor after him. Only he’s not giving them bread and fish the last few days. Now he’s challenging them to eat his Flesh and drink his Blood – this is Saint John’s version of the giving of the Eucharist. They aren’t able to understand what that means and they’re not going to stick around and hear much more of it – many of them are getting ready to leave.

    But God’s ways are infinitely richer than our little intelligence and inadequate imagination and faltering faith. God wants so much more for us than we’re ready to ask for – he wants to give us his very self to fill us up and make us whole and bring us to heaven. The question is, will we let him obscure our vision so that we can see clearly (as he did for Saint Paul), or put us in the firing line so that we can really live (as he did for Ananias), or die for us so that we can live with him, as he did for his disciples and for us? Are we ready to have our lives turned upside-down so that we can get back on track?

    Because that’s the only way we’re really going to live.

    Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

  • Thursday of the Third Week in Easter

    Thursday of the Third Week in Easter

    Today’s readings

    In the spiritual realm, there aren’t coincidences. God puts us where we need to be, when we need to be there. That’s the work of the Holy Spirit. We see that played out in today’s first reading. Here, an angel directs the Apostle Saint Philip to be on a road at the very same time as the Ethiopian eunuch passed by, reading a passage from the prophet Isaiah that referred to Jesus. Seizing the moment, Philip proclaims Jesus to him in a way that was powerful enough and moving enough that, on seeing some water as they continued on the journey, the eunuch begged to be baptized.

    The same is true for those who were fortunate enough to hear Jesus proclaim the Bread of Life discourse that we’ve been reading in our Gospel readings these past days. Having been fed by a few loaves and fishes when they were physically hungry, they now come to find Jesus who longs to fill them up not just physically but also, and more importantly, spiritually. Their hunger put them in the right place at the right time.

    What I think is important for us to get today is that we are always in the right place at the right time, spiritually speaking. Wherever we find ourselves is the place that we are directed by the Holy Spirit to find God. Wherever we are right now is the place where the Holy Spirit wants us to find God and to proclaim God. That might be in the midst of peace, or chaos, or any situation. We never know how God may feed us in those situations. Because we never know when there will be someone like an Ethiopian eunuch there, aching to be filled with Christ’s presence and called to a new life.

    It is no coincidence that we are where we are, when we are. The Spirit always calls on us to find our God and proclaim him as Lord in every moment and every situation.

    Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!

    Alleluia!

  • Tuesday in the Third Week of Easter (Confirmation Program Closing Mass)

    Tuesday in the Third Week of Easter (Confirmation Program Closing Mass)

    Today’s readings

    Names are important. They help us to know who someone is, and gives us a way to call on them. Very often names have meaning, saying something about the person or her or his family, or what they do.

    In the Scriptures, we sometimes see that God changes someone’s name when he has a special ministry or task for them to do. That was true of Abram way back in the book of Genesis. He and his wife Sarah were old, and they never had any children, but God provided him with a son, and promised that he would be the father of many nations, and have descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky. He changed his name to Abraham, and made a covenant with him that he would be Abraham’s God, and be with him always.

    In the Gospels, Simon met Jesus after an unsuccessful fishing expedition. He called him to become a fisher of men, bringing in souls for the kingdom of God. He changed his name from Simon to Peter. The root word of Peter means “rock” and he said that Peter would be the rock on which Jesus would build his Church.

    Today, in our first reading, we have one of our first glimpses at Saul. In this episode, Saul isn’t such a great guy. Here, the deacon Saint Stephen is talking to the people and he lays it on the line for them. He tells them that they sinfully rejected the Lord Jesus and were responsible for his death. He said they were just like their ancestors who murdered the prophets that God had sent to proclaim his message of salvation and repentance. The people heard that and were enraged and decided to put Stephen to death by stoning. And it’s Saul, one of the leading members of the Jewish religion, zealous for God, who consents to this stoning and keeps watch over the belongings of the men who were doing it.

    But down the road a bit, God has plans for Saul. He’s going to call him to be not just a believer in Jesus, but an apostle, an apostle to the Gentiles. It’s going to be his task to bring the message to people who were not Jews. And to inaugurate his new mission, his name will be changed from Saul to Paul, a name which means “small” or “humble,” perhaps showing how he was changed from an arrogant persecutor of Christians, to being a servant of God.

    We’re going to see that play out in the coming days as the Cardinals of the Church come together in Rome beginning tomorrow to pick the next pope, the successor of Pope Francis. When a Cardinal receives the required majority, he is asked if he will accept the role. When he says that he will, he is asked by what name he wishes to be known in his new ministry as pope.

    And as you all continue your preparation for Confirmation, you too will have the opportunity to pick a new Christian name. That will symbolize the fact that, having received the Holy Spirit, you now have a new ministry in the world, a task that leads to your life’s vocation.

    But there are other important names, too. There is the name of “Christian” which we share, indicating that we are followers of Jesus Christ. But perhaps the most important name that we have is “Child of God” acknowledging our dependence on our loving God who will do anything for us to come to know him more deeply.

    Jesus himself was known by many names: “Jesus,” “Christ” (or Anointed One), “Messiah,” and in today’s Gospel reading “Bread of Life.” That name indicates that he came to feed us – not just physically – but our spirits most of all. It’s a name that we can depend on knowing that those who follow him will never hunger or thirst for anything worthwhile, but will always have strength in him.

    Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!

    Alleluia!

  • The Third Sunday in Easter

    The Third Sunday in Easter

    Today’s readings

    What Satan wants is a community of disciples so mired in their sins, that they do nothing to foster the Kingdom of God and live the Gospel. Bookmark that thought, because I’ll come back to it in a bit.

    I love today’s Gospel because it features one of my favorite characters, Saint Peter. Saint Peter has been inspirational to me because, despite being called to do great things for God, he does a lot of messing up and often has to pick himself up and start all over again. Today’s Gospel reading has him trying to figure things out. He’s very recently been through the arrest and execution of his Lord, only to find out that he is risen, and has appeared to various disciples, including Peter himself. I think today’s story has him trying to make sense of it all and figure out where to go from here. But he’s trying to figure it out in the midst of having fallen again, since he denied even knowing the Lord three times on the night of Holy Thursday.

    So, in an effort to figure things out, he goes back to what he knows best, which is to say he goes fishing. And he takes some of the others with him. And, as is very typical of Peter’s fishing expeditions recorded in the Gospels, he catches nothing even though he’s been hard at it all night long. It’s not until the Lord is with them again and redirects their efforts, that they eventually pull in an incredibly large catch of fish. Jesus then invites them to dine with him, using one of my favorite lines in all of Sacred Scripture, “Come, have breakfast.”

    Then we have this very interesting, and in some ways tense, conversation between Jesus and Peter. Jesus takes him off to the side after breakfast, and just as he redirected Peter’s efforts while they were fishing earlier, now he redirects Peter’s efforts in his life. There are a couple of points of background that we need to keep in mind. First, just as Peter three times denied his Lord on the night of Holy Thursday, so now Jesus gives him three opportunities to profess his love and get it right.

    Second, the Greek language has a few different words that we translate “love.” Two of them are in play in this conversation. The first is agapeo, which is the highest form of love. It’s a love that always wills the best for the other person, a love that is self-sacrificing and enduring. It’s the love that God has for us. The other kind of love that is used here is phileo, a bit lower form of love that is something like a strong affection for someone else. Where agapeo is an act of the will, phileo is more of a feeling. Many scholars don’t see this as an appreciable difference and say John in his Gospel just uses two different words to mean the same thing. But I think John is careful with language, and the two uses mean something, as we will see.

    So the conversation begins, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” That’s literally a loaded question, so let’s look at it. First of all, Jesus calls Peter “Simon, son of John.” But Jesus is the one who changed his name from Simon to Peter. So this seems to be a bit of a rebuke: Okay, Peter, if you’re just going to revert to your former self and pretend you haven’t known me the last three years, then I’ll just use your old name. I’m sure Peter didn’t miss the inference. Then at the end, “do you love me more than these?” Scholars have a lot of opinions on what “these” are: Do you love me more than you love these other guys? Do you love me more than these other guys love me? Do you love me more than this fishing equipment, the tools of your former life? It doesn’t matter what he meant by “these,” the effect is the same: Peter is called to a higher love, which is evidenced in the word Jesus uses for love, which is agapeo. Peter responds, acknowledging Jesus’ omniscience, “Lord you know that I love you.” But he uses phileo, perhaps acknowledging that he is not capable of the agapeo kind of love. And he’s probably right about that, since sin does diminish our capacity to love. He receives the response “Feed my lambs,” of which I’ll say more later.

    The conversation continues in the same manner, using the same forms of the word “love” in both the question and the response, and ending with the injunction, “Tend my sheep.” But the third question is interesting. Jesus asks the third time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” But this time Jesus uses the word phileo, as much as to say, “Okay, Peter, do you even have affection for me?” And Peter seems to get the inference, because he responds emotionally: “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” And he’s right: Jesus does know. But Jesus needed Peter to know it too. Jesus, in his Divine Mercy, has healed Peter, forgiven his sins, and helped him to remember his mission, redirecting his efforts to “Feed my sheep.”

    Because if Jesus hadn’t done this, Satan would have won. He would have had that community of disciples so mired in their sins, that they do nothing to foster the Kingdom of God and live the Gospel. And then we wouldn’t be here today, would we?

    And let’s be clear about this. We, like Peter, all have a mission to accomplish. We all have some part of the Kingdom to build. We may not be the rock on which Jesus will build his Church, but we are indeed part of it. And we are all, sadly, affected by our sins. We have all denied our Lord in one way or another by what we have done and what we have failed to do. And so the Lord, in his Divine Mercy, says to us today: “Patrick, do you love me?” “Susan do you love me?” And we respond with whatever love we’re capable of. In that moment, Jesus redirects our life’s efforts too, so that we can do what we’re called to do. We, who have been purified by our Lenten penance, are now called to the life of the Resurrection, in which all God’s lambs are cared for, and all his sheep tended.

    So here’s the question to ponder and pray with this week: “Do you love me more than these?” “These” can be anything that is part and parcel of your life day in and day out. Do you love me more than your work? Do you love me more than your busyness? Do you love me more than your sins? Do you love me more than your addiction? Do you love me more than your improper relationships? Do you love me more than your poor self-image? Do you love the Lord more than “these”? Then hear our Lord say to you: “Tend my sheep.” Those sheep are whoever in your life are the ones who make up your life’s vocation, those people God has given you to love and care for. Tend them with renewed authenticity. Tend them with the same love our Lord has for you. Tend his sheep.

    Because Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!

    Alleluia!

  • Saint Joseph the Worker

    Saint Joseph the Worker

    Today’s readings

    Today we have the option to celebrate the memorial of Saint Joseph the Worker. And I personally think that, whenever we have the option to celebrate Saint Joseph, we should! I think this particular memorial resonates with so many of us who work for a living; Saint Joseph is our patron. The Christian idea of work is that through the toil of work, the Christian joins her or himself to the cross of Christ, and through the effects of work, the Christian participates in the creative activity of our Creator God. This memorial puts that in the spotlight.

    In today’s first reading, Saint Paul urges all disciples to do whatever they do, as if they were doing it for the Lord. This is a great spiritual principal that reminds us that our lives are not all about us, that we receive our abilities and talents from the Lord, and that we are accountable to God for all that we do, in thought, word, and deed. He reminds us, too, that our working should be cause for thanksgiving: thanksgiving that we have our abilities, and that we can use them for God’s purpose and for the support of ourselves and for the family entrusted to us.

    Sometimes, it is true, work is not much of a blessing; often work seems less than redemptive. To that, Saint John Paul said in his encylcical Laborerm Exercens, “Sweat and toil, which work necessarily involves in the present condition of the human race, present the Christian and everyone who is called to follow Christ with the possibility of sharing lovingly in the work that Christ came to do. This work of salvation came about through suffering and death on a Cross. By enduring the toil of work in union with Christ crucified for us, humankind in a way collaborates with the Son of God for the redemption of humanity. They show themselves true disciples of Christ by carrying the cross in their turn every day in the activity that they are called upon to perform.” (27)

    And so we all forge ahead in our daily work, whether that be as a carpenter, a businessman or woman, a homemaker, a mother or father, a laborer, a white collar worker, a consecrated religious or ordained person, or whatever it may be. We forge ahead with the joy of bringing all the world to redemption through creation, through the cross and Resurrection of Christ, and through our daily work.

    Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!

    Alleluia!

  • The Second Sunday in Easter (Sunday of Divine Mercy)

    The Second Sunday in Easter (Sunday of Divine Mercy)

    Today’s readings

    I often wonder what brings people to Mass on the Second Sunday of Easter. We had crowds of people here last Sunday, as you know, but things this Sunday are, perhaps a bit unfortunately, more or less back to normal. The Easter duty is done, and most people go back to their normal Sunday routines, whatever those routines may be. But many of us still gather for worship this morning. What is it that brings us here today?

    Maybe our motives are grand ones. We can’t get enough of the Word of God and his Real Presence in the Eucharist. Or maybe we need to be together with the community in order for our faith to make sense and our life to be on track. Maybe we know that our presence in the worshiping community isn’t just about us, but rather about all of us being together, that there would be no community without all of us present.

    But maybe our motives aren’t quite so lofty. Maybe, at some level, we’re here because of fear. Fear that our lives aren’t going the way we’d like them to. Fear that family problems are not getting resolved. Fear that our jobs are unfulfilling or our relationships are in disarray. Fear that our lives are empty spiritually, and we don’t know where to find our Lord. Fear that missing Mass will lead us to hell. Fear that if we don’t get out we’ll be lonely. I think if we’re honest, there’s a little fear in all of us, and at some level, that fear leads us here, and that’s okay.

    So if you find that’s the case for you, you have ten patron saints locked up in that upper room. They too had a great deal of fear. Fear that they too might be led to the cross by the same people who took Jesus there. There was certainly some reality to that fear, and I think we can all understand it. But I also think it’s significant to realize that the Eleven, all of whom lived closely with Jesus for three years, were not yet able to overcome their fears and pursue the mission of Jesus. Instead, they gather in a locked room, mourning their friend, confused about the empty tomb and stories of his appearances, and fearful for their own lives. We whose lives are filled with fear at times definitely have the Apostles as our kindred spirits.

    The truth is that, like the Apostles, it doesn’t really matter what has gathered us here. The important thing is that at least we are here. At least in our fear we did not hide away and refuse to be brought into the light. Because there are many who have left us, aren’t there? Many have had enough of church scandals and have decided to take their spiritual business elsewhere. Many have been hurt in all kinds of ways and have not found immediate healing in the Church. Many have been influenced by the allurements of the world and the false comforts of pop psychology and have given up on a religion that makes demands of them. Many have left us, and at some level we can understand their frustration. But at least we are here, at least we have gathered, albeit in fear, albeit locked up in our own little rooms, but definitely in the path of our Lord who longs to be among us in our fear and to say, “Peace be with you.”

    The peace that Jesus imparts is not just the absence conflict in our lives. It is instead a real peace, a peace from the inside of us out. A peace that affects our body, mind and spirit. A peace that brings us into communion with one another and most especially with God by whom and for whom we were created and redeemed. The peace that the Ten had upon seeing their Risen Lord, the peace that Thomas had just one week later, is the same peace that our Risen Lord offers to all of us fearful disciples who gather together as a refuge against the storms and uncertainties of our own lives. That peace is a peace that invites us to reach out like Thomas did and touch our Lord as we receive his very Body and Blood in all his Divine Mercy.

    That peace is not some passive greeting that rests upon us and goes no further. Whenever we are gifted with any blessing, it is never intended only for us. We who have been gifted and healed and transformed by the peace of our Risen Lord are called just like the Eleven to continue to write the story of Jesus so that others may see and believe. We now become the peace of Christ to reach out to a world that appears to be hopelessly un-peaceful. We must extend that peace by reaching out to touch those who are sick, or poor, or lonely, or despairing, or doubtful, or fearful, or grieving, or marginalized, or fallen away. Our own presence in and among our loved ones and in and among the world must be a presence that is rooted in the Risen Lord and steeped in his peace. We must be the ones who help a doubting world to no longer be unbelieving but believe.

    We have come here today for all kinds of reasons. We may have come here in doubt and fear, but as we approach the Eucharist and receive the very Body and Blood of our Lord who invites us to reach out and touch him, and strengthens us with his holy presence; as we go forth to glorify the Lord this day, may we leave not in doubt and fear but instead in belief and peace.

    Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

    Jesus, I trust in you.

  • Easter Sunday of the Resurrection of Our Lord

    Easter Sunday of the Resurrection of Our Lord

    Today’s readings

    I often tell the children in our school that if there’s just one thing they ought to know about God, one thing they ever learn about God, and that is that God loves them more than anything, that would be enough. It’s the thing that I hope they remember me saying, because that’s the message I feel called to proclaim. God’s love is the most important thing we have in this life, the most precious gift we will ever receive.

    It is true gift, because there’s nothing, not one thing, that we can do to earn it. Filthy in sin as we are, we certainly don’t do it. And entitled as we can sometimes be, there is no way we can ever say that we have a right to it. But we get it anyway. God freely pours out his love on us sinners, not because we are good, but because he is.

    God loves us first and loves us best, and it’s a love that will totally consume us, totally transform us, if we let it. It’s a love that can break our stony hearts and transform our sadness into real joy. It’s a love that can change us from people of darkness to real live people of light and joy. It’s a love that obliterates the power of sin and death to control our eternity, and opens up to us the glory of heaven.

    And even if we live our lives passing from one thing to the next and barely noticing anything going on around us, we have to pause and appreciate God’s love on this most holy morning. This is the morning that confounded Mary of Magdala; it’s the morning that got Peter and John out of their funk and sent them running. It’s the morning that John finally starts to get what Jesus was getting at all this time. He saw and believed.

    He saw that his Lord was not there, that death could not hold him. He saw that the grave was no longer the finality of existence. He saw that Love – real Love – is in charge of our futures. He saw that there is real hope available to us hopeless ones.

    “To him all the prophets bear witness,
    that everyone who believes in him
    will receive forgiveness of sins through his name.”

    That quote, from Saint Peter’s testimony in the Acts of the Apostles, today’s first reading, is the Easter faith to which we are all called. We have to stop living like this is all there is. We have to stop loving our sins more than we love God. We have to live like a people who have been loved into existence, and loved into redemption.

    That means we have to put aside our disastrous sense of entitlement. We have to learn to receive love so deep that it calls us to change. And we have to love in the same way too, so that others will see that and believe.

    We’ll never find real love by burying ourselves in work or careers. We’ll do nothing but damage our life if we seek to find it in substance abuse. We’ll never find love by clinging to past hurts and resentments. We are only going to find love in one place, or more precisely in one person, namely, Jesus Christ. We must let everything else – everything else – go.

    Today, Jesus Christ broke the prison-bars of death, and rose triumphant from the underworld. What good would life have been to us, if Christ had not come as our Redeemer? Because of this saving event, we can be assured that our own graves will never be our final resting places, that pain and sorrow and death will be temporary, and that we who believe and follow our risen Lord have hope of life that lasts forever. Just as Christ’s own time on the cross and in the grave was brief, so our own pain, death, and burial will be as nothing compared to the ages of new life we have yet to receive. We have hope in these days because Christ is our hope, and he has overcome the obstacles to our living.

    The good news today is that we can find real love today and every day of our lives, by coming to this sacred place. It is here that we hear the Word proclaimed, here that we partake of the very Body and Blood of our Lord. An occasional experience of this mystery simply will not do – we cannot partake of it on Easter Sunday only. No; we must nurture our faith by encountering our Risen Lord every day, certainly every Sunday, of our lives, by hearing that Word, and receiving his Body and Blood. Anything less than that is seeking the living one among the dead.

    Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

  • The Easter Vigil in the Holy Night

    The Easter Vigil in the Holy Night

    Tonight’s readings

    Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

    The Paschal Triduum, as you may know, is a long, three-day liturgy that begins with the Mass of the Lord’s Supper on Holy Thursday, continues with the Liturgy of the Lord’s Passion on Good Friday, and concludes tonight, here, as we celebrate the Great Easter Vigil in the Holy Night. So right now, we are more or less three-quarters into the celebration, and we’ve covered a lot of ground. Back on Thursday night, Father John urged us not to be mere spectators of these events, not to observe the celebration from 500 feet, but to put ourselves in the story and experience that evening with the disciples. He spoke of the various movements in that celebration: the eating of the Passover meal at the Last Supper, the washing of the feet, the institution of the priesthood and the Eucharist. And finally, the agony in the garden that culminated in the arrest of Jesus. He reminded us that real love didn’t consist of just doing what we wanted to do for people, but instead to discern and do what they most needed, just as Jesus knew the apostles needed their feet washed, and needed to grow in their capacity to love as future leaders.

    This entering into the events is a part of Catholic theology, liturgy, and spirituality called anamnesis. One could translate anamnesis as memory, remembrance, or commemoration, but none of those is especially adequate. Anamnesis is a remembering in the sense of entering into the event as if it were in the present, of being part of the event itself.

    If you’re a cook or baker, maybe you’ve had the experience of making a family recipe, and it brings to mind the loved one who taught it to you, and then you remember a story you shared when that person made it, and then that loved one is almost present to you, and you shed a tear mixed with a smile and a tug at your heart. That’s a little bit of what anamnesis is like. Placing oneself at the Last Supper, in the Upper Room, at the Garden of Gethsemane, and even at Golgotha and the Empty Tomb and letting those events change you as Father John suggested, that’s anamnesis. It’s realized most perfectly in the celebration of the Eucharist, where we don’t just recall the Last Supper and the Crucifixion, but are spiritually present there with all the people of every time and place in every church in the world, on earth and in heaven; where we don’t just receive a symbol of the Lord, but actually receive his body, blood, soul and divinity in the consecrated host. Anamnesis is powerful because it catches us up in the divine life of our Lord, who came to gather up and redeem our broken humanity.

    Father James continued the anamnesis yesterday afternoon as we gathered to continue the Triduum Liturgy with the Commemoration of our Lord’s Passion. He reminded us that Jesus wasn’t some kind of helpless victim put to death on the cross, but instead our Lord who willingly laid down his life for us, went to battle to combat sin and death, and, in a somewhat gross analogy, exploded death from the inside out. He invited us to see in the Cross our own sin, failures, and frailty, but also the means of our salvation brandished by our Lord in the battle against all that frailty. We then venerated a cross, which symbolized that Cross that was the Altar of Our Lord’s Sacrifice, and finally we were fed with the Eucharist, presanctified on Thursday night, which nourished us with the Lord’s strength to find true contrition and Divine Mercy.

    The anamnesis continued during this evening’s extensive Liturgy of the Word. In it, we have heard stories of our salvation, God’s saving action in the world throughout all time. Each of our readings has been a stop in the history of God’s love for us. God’s plan for salvation began back at the beginning of it all. Each of the days was hallowed with precious creation, and all of it was created and pronounced good. Then Abraham’s faithfulness and righteousness earned us a future as bright as a zillion twinkling stars. Later, as Moses and the Israelites stood trapped by the waters of the Red Sea, God’s providence made a way for them and cut off their pursuers, making the future safe for those God calls his own. The prophet Isaiah calls us to seek the Lord while he may be found, not spending our lives on things that fail to satisfy, but investing in our relationship with God that gives us everything. The prophet Ezekiel foretells the re-creation all humanity will experience as they come to know Christ and are filled with the Spirit. Saint Paul rejoices in the baptism that has washed away the stains of sin as we have died and risen with Christ, and has brought us into a new life that leads ultimately to God’s kingdom. And finally, our Gospel tonight tells us not to be afraid, to go forth into the Galilee of our future and expect to see the Risen Lord. And in all of it, we are present, if we accept our Lord’s invitation to enter in.

    “You shall be my people, and I will be your God” (Ezekiel 36:28). I love that last line from the last of the Old Testament readings we heard tonight. There is a covenant, there has always been a covenant, there always will be a covenant. God created us in love, and he loves us first and best. No matter where we may wander; no matter how far from the covenant we may stray, God still keeps it, forever and always. We will always be his people and he will always be our God. If I had to pick a line that sums up what we’re here for tonight, what we’ve been here for these last 40 days of Lent, that would be it.

    And that covenant is pivotal truth in this time of apathy, falsity, and general disinterest. Against all of that, the Church serves as a beacon of truth and grace and mercy as she reflects the glory of our Risen Lord. Our world may indeed be jaded by corruption, hatred, violence, crime, war, racism, lack of concern for the lives of the unborn and the vulnerable, neglect of the poor, and so many other maladies. But when we accept the covenant in our lives, we can be transformed, and become that beacon, and lead those disaffected by the world to the glorious light of God’s redeeming presence.

    We have journeyed with our Lord for three days now. We ate with him, we prayed through the night with him, we saw him walk the way of the Cross and tearfully recalled his crucifixion. We reverenced the Cross, joining our own crosses to his. Now we’ve stayed up all night and shared the stories of our salvation, with eager excitement at the ways God has kept that covenant through the ages. A roaring fire shattered the darkness, and a candle was lit to mingle with the lights of heaven. Then grace had its defining moment as Christ shattered the prison-bars of death and rose triumphant from the underworld.

    It’s so important that we enter into Lent and the Triduum every year. Not just because we need to be called back from our sinfulness to the path of life – yes, there is that, but it’s not primary here. What is so important is that we see that the Cross is our path too. In this life we will have trouble: our Savior promises us that. But the Cross is what sees him overcome the world and all the suffering it brings us. We will indeed suffer in this life, but thanks be to God, if we join ourselves to him, if we take up our own crosses with faithfulness, then we can merit a share in our Lord’s resurrection, that reality that fulfills all of the salvation history that we’ve heard in tonight’s readings.

    Our birth would have meant nothing had we not been redeemed. If we were born only to live and die for this short span of time, how horrible that would have been. But thanks be to God, the sin of Adam was destroyed completely by the death of Christ! The Cross has triumphed and we are made new! Dazzling is this night for us, and full of gladness! Because our Lord is risen, our hope of eternity has dawned, and there is no darkness which can blot it out. We will always be God’s people, and he will always be our God!

    And so, with great joy on this most holy night, in this, the Mother of all Vigils, we rightfully celebrate the sacrament of holy Baptism. Our Elect will shortly become members of the Body of Christ through this sacrament which washes away their sins. Then they will be confirmed in the Holy Spirit and fed, for the first time, on the Body and Blood of our Saving Lord. It’s a wonderful night for them, but also for us, as we renew ourselves in our baptismal promises, and receive our Lord yet again, to be strengthened in our vocation as disciples.

    We are and always will be God’s people. God has made new his glorious covenant through the resurrection of our Christ. And so, having come through this hour to be sanctified in this vigil, we will shortly be sent forth to help sanctify our own time and place. Brightened by this beautiful vigil, we now become a flame to light up our darkened world. That is our ministry in the world. That is our call as believers. That is our vocation as disciples. “May this flame be found still burning – IN US! – by the Morning Star. The one Morning Star who never sets, Christ your Son, who coming back from death’s domain, has shed his peaceful light on humanity, and lives and reigns forever and ever. Amen.”

    Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

  • Holy Saturday Lauds (Morning Prayer)

    Holy Saturday Lauds (Morning Prayer)

    Today, the Church asks us to do something that is almost impossible for we modern people to do, and that is to be silent. Today, we continue to keep the Paschal Fast until the end of the Easter Vigil. That means we eat less, speak less, do less – all to keep the silence of this time. This is the time that has Jesus in the tomb. This is the time where Jesus descends into hell.

    We don’t rush the resurrection, because we need to sit in the uncertainty and wait for the working out of our salvation. It’s not unlike the uncertainty we experience when we are awaiting test results for a serious illness. Or when one job ends and a new opportunity has yet to open up. Or when a relationship breaks and we have to wait our way through the healing. The uncertainty, the meanwhile, requires us to sit in the silence and await salvation.

    There is a lot going on in the meanwhile, even though we don’t see it. There was on that first Holy Saturday. An ancient homily for this day puts it this way:

    Something strange is happening—there is a great silence on earth today, a great silence and stillness. The whole earth keeps silence because the King is asleep. The earth trembled and is still because God has fallen asleep in the flesh and he has raised up all who have slept ever since the world began. God has died in the flesh and hell trembles with fear.

    He has gone to search for our first parent, as for a lost sheep. Greatly desiring to visit those who live in darkness and in the shadow of death, he has gone to free from sorrow the captives Adam and Eve, he who is both God and the son of Eve. The Lord approached them bearing the cross, the weapon that had won him the victory. At the sight of him Adam, the first man he had created, struck his breast in terror and cried out to everyone: “My Lord be with you all.” Christ answered him: “And with your spirit.” He took him by the hand and raised him up, saying: “Awake, O sleeper, and rise from the dead, and Christ will give you light.”

    Tonight our Elect are to be baptized into Christ. Tonight we will hear the stories of salvation and keep vigil for our Risen Lord. That’s tonight. For now, we fast and pray and keep silence, letting the significance of this moment sink in, waiting for the working out of our salvation.

    And maybe we join our waiting to the wisdom of Saint Joseph, whose silence throughout the Gospel allowed the salvation of all the world to be worked out.