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  • A Letter to Diognetus: We’re Not Home Yet

    A Letter to Diognetus: We’re Not Home Yet

    Today's Office of Readings has as its second reading an excerpt from a Letter to Diognetus.  This is one of my favorite readings.  I'm not sure why, because every year when I read it, it makes me feel uneasy, unworthy — yeah, all of that.  Listen to this portion of it:

    Christians love those who hate them just as the soul loves the body and all its members despite the body's hatred. It is by the soul, enclosed within the body, that the body is held together, and similarly, it is by the Christians, detained in the world as in a prison, that the world is held together. The soul, though immortal, has a mortal dwelling place; and Christians also live for a time amidst perishable things, while awaiting the freedom from change and decay that will be theirs in heaven. As the soul benefits from the deprivation of food and drink, so Christians flourish under persecution. Such is the Christian’s lofty and divinely appointed function, from which he is not permitted to excuse himself.

    That just reminds me that no, we're not home yet.  We are supposed to live as full citizens of the world, but also as aliens in it — the whole Catholic both/and approach to theology in general.  We must take our place here and make present the Kingdom of God on earth.  But we must always live remembering that we are not ultimately destined for life in this world, and so must not be too attached to things, people, anything that drags us away from our Creator.

  • CNS STORY: ‘Da Vinci Code’ draws laughs from journalists at press screening

    CNS STORY: ‘Da Vinci Code’ draws laughs from journalists at press screening

    CNS STORY: 'Da Vinci Code' draws laughs from journalists at press screening

    CANNES, France (CNS) — Toward the end of the movie "The Da Vinci Code," the main character, Robert Langdon, tells his sleuthing partner, Sophie Neveu: "You are the last living descendent of Jesus Christ."

     

    That line, meant to be the dramatic apex of the film, drew laughs from many of the approximately 900 journalists who viewed the film's first press screening May 16 at the Cannes Film Festival.

     

    The derisive laughter, along with widely critical comments from reporters afterward, summed up the Cannes press reaction to the much-heralded launch of the movie. When the credits ran, silence and a few whistles drove home the response.

    Director Ron Howard points out later in the article that this movie was not intended to be theology but rather entertainment.  The review makes the second portion of his comment seem unlikely.  And while not intended to be theology, I think the whole Da Vinci Code phenomenon — if you can call it that — is intended to put theology, or at least the Church, in a derogatory light.

    But maybe that's not even the motivation.  Basically, these things exist because they'll sell, and heck, who wouldn't like to make a few million dollars?  The sad part is that people will go to see the movie, and be unentertained, and fuel the movement that derides the Church and the Gospel in the process.

    I think I'll miss this movie.  But not much, if you know what I mean…

  • Our New Bishop: J. Peter Sartain

    Our New Bishop: J. Peter Sartain

    On Tuesday, May 16, 2006, the Apostolic Nuncio announced the appointment of Bishop J. Peter Sartain (pronounced Sar’-tin) as the Fourth Bishop of Joliet.

     

    Bishop Sartain was born on June 6, 1952 in Memphis, Tennessee. On July 15, 1978 he was ordained to the priesthood for the Diocese of Memphis. He was appointed as Bishop of the Diocese of Little Rock on January 4, 2000 and was ordained on March 6, 2000.

     

    In addition to his pastoral experience as a parochial vicar and as a pastor, Bishop Sartain also has considerable administrative experience, having served as Director of Vocations, Chancellor, Moderator of the Curia, Vicar for Clergy, and Vicar General. He currently is a member of the Administrative Committee of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, as well as the Chair of the USCCB Committee on the Home Missions.

     

    During a press conference held at 10:00 a.m. at St. Charles Borromeo Pastoral Center, Bishop Imesch announced Bishop Sartain’s appointment as Fourth Bishop of Joliet. The ceremony of installation is scheduled for 2:00 p.m. on Tuesday, June 27, 2006.

    The long-awaited announcement has finally arrived.  Since I've heard nothing of his name thrown about in all the rumors, it appears Bishop Kaffer's quote of "them that knows aren't saying and them that are saying don't know" was entirely correct.  I haven't heard much about Bishop Sartain, although the occasional blog entry here and there has said non-specific good stuff about him.  So it will be interesting for the diocese to get to know him, and to see how his appointment will affect all the negative stuff flying around the diocese these days.

    Holy Spirit, enliven us all, and help us all to do your will.

  • CNS STORY: Public schools add religion course to curriculum requirements

    CNS STORY: Public schools add religion course to curriculum requirements

    CNS STORY: Public schools add religion course to curriculum requirements

    WASHINGTON (CNS) — At a time when public schools are increasingly wary of any mention of religion, one California school district has found that requiring students to study world religions has been surprisingly uncontroversial and has helped smooth hostilities.

    For the last six years, the Modesto public schools have required ninth graders to take a nine-week course on world religions, beginning with two weeks of study of First Amendment rights and the U.S. history of religious liberty.

    I had two objections to this whole idea:  First, I was thinking it might be teaching kids that all religions are generally okay and equal.  And this, well, it's not what we believe.  As Cardinal George once said at an ecumenical meeting, in his characteristic overly-frank manner, "My goal is to have you all become Catholic."  That's his goal because that's what we belive our mission to be, and so religious relativism is a legitimate concern.

    But the article points out that those who held beliefs against religious relativism ended the course with those same beliefs.  So the course's aim was not to promote that kind of relativism, but rather understanding, which is the basis of ecumenical and interreligious dialogue anyway, and extremely healthy.  Encouraging!

    My second objection would be that it promoted a watered-down view of the faith.  But the tests proved that the students' religious knowledged actually doubled.  That may make the secular course more effective than traditional methods of catechesis in some ways. 

    Maybe we have something to learn from this secular effort.

  • Fifth Sunday of Easter: All Creation Rightly Gives You Praise

    Fifth Sunday of Easter: All Creation Rightly Gives You Praise

    Today's readings. 

    I remember back in my second year of seminary, I took my first moral theology class.  One of the first tests we took had a line from the third Eucharistic Prayer on it: “Father, you are holy indeed, and all creation rightly gives you praise.”  This line came along with the question: “Rocks are part of creation.  So how does a rock give God praise?”  The answer, we had been taught, is “by being a rock.”  Certainly a rock could not sing a song of praise or pray a psalm, but just by being what it was intended to be—a rock—it gave God praise.

    The implications of the question were that every part of creation gives God praise by being most fully what it was created to be.  Trees give praise to God by bearing leaves, flowers and fruit; animals give praise to God by running, ruling the jungle, barking, flying or whatever it was they were given power to do.  We then, are also created to give God praise by being most fully what we were created to be – by being fully human.  This is what Jesus tells us at the end of today’s Gospel: “By this is my Father glorified, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples” (John 15:8).

    Being fully human might seem easy to do.  But that, I think, is based on a flawed notion of what it means to be human.  How many times have we all said something like, “sure, I am a sinner; I’m only human, right?”  But being a sinner is not the same as being fully human.  The most fully human person that ever walked the face of the earth was Jesus Christ.  Jesus, we believe, was like us in all things, except sin.  This is how we know that sin is not part of what it means to be fully human.  And sin obviously is not something that gives God praise.  Indeed, that last line of the Gospel seems to leave no room for sin, and sets a rather high standard of what it means to give God praise: that we must bear much fruit – not just some fruit, but much fruit – and become disciples of Jesus.

    To become more fully human is a life-long task, and we know that it will never be fully realized this side of heaven.  But while we are on earth, that’s our primary responsibility: to give God praise by becoming more fully what we were created to be in the first place.  Today’s Gospel gives us a picture of how we’re supposed to do that.  It mentions two specific things we are to do.

    The first is to get pruned.  We, the branches of Jesus’ vine are destined to be pruned so that we can bear more fruit.  Now, a couple of weeks ago, I was pruning bushes at my parents’ house.  While the bushes never said a word to me, I was guessing this pruning was not a painless process for them!  It involves cutting away parts of the bush that looked for all the world like they were life-giving, and it involved cutting some branches radically away.  All in the name of becoming a healthier shrub. 

    We too have to be pruned sometimes.  And it’s not a painless process for us either: it involves maybe cutting away some parts of our lives that look for all the world like they are life-giving.  But we recognize that these things can be really destructive: relationships that entangle us in ways that are not healthy, pleasures that lead to sin, habits that are not virtuous.  However enjoyable these relationships or activities may seem to be, and however painful it may be to end them, end them we must in the name of pruning our lives to be healthier, to be more fully the people we were created to be.

    I’ve done some pruning in my own life recently.  And I can tell you it has indeed been painful.  This past week, I moved out of my room at the seminary.  It is a room that has served me well for the last four years, but, as one of our formators told us at our end-of-the-year Mass, “it’s time for you to go.”  At the end of it, I took one last look around before I left and saw a room much cleaner than it had been in about a year! – but also much emptier.  There was sadness, and I realized the sadness was not so much leaving the little but functional room, but that leaving it represented the sadness of leaving behind all the things the room been for me: the times I studied with my friends there for a test; the times we had met there for prayer or to discuss the Scriptures in our formation group; the times we had just hung out there, watching a movie, or wasting time together.  Those activities and relationships had been life-giving to me for five years, and now it was time to go.  I realize that as good as those relationships had been for me, it is time to let go and to move on to the priestly life God has been and is now calling me to live.  This pruning is painful, but in doing so, I can become more fully the person God created me to be.

    The second thing the Gospel calls us to do today is to remain in me.  “Me,” of course, means Jesus, and just in case we don’t get the point, Jesus gives us that instruction four times.  “Remain in me,” Jesus says, as the branch remains in the vine.  “Remain in me,” Jesus says, so that you can bear much fruit.  “Remain in me,” Jesus says, so that you will not wither and dry up only to be tossed out and burned as rubbish.  “Remain in me,” Jesus says, so that whatever you truly need and want will be done, and so that you can bear much fruit and be my disciples. 

    I think we can all get on board with remaining in Jesus, because this reading makes it sound completely wonderful.  And it is wonderful.  If we want to be truly happy, if we want ultimate fulfillment in life, if we really want to be the wonderful creation God made us to be, we must remain in Jesus, because, as he says, “without me you can do nothing.”  And that’s true.  How many times have we tried to better ourselves and lost sight of the goal before we even started?  How many times have we tried to stamp out a pattern of sin in our lives, only to fall victim to it time and time again?  How many times have we tried to repair relationships only to have egos, hurts or resentments get in the way?  When we forget to start our work with God’s help, we are destined to fail.  Apart from Jesus we can do nothing.  Well does he advise us to remain in him.

    But what does “remain in me” mean?  How do we do that?  Is there a blueprint or some steps we can follow to make sure we’re remaining?  Unfortunately, we don’t get any of that in today’s Scripture.  We are told that because we’ve had the word preached to us, we are “already pruned” and are on the way to remaining in him.  But this remaining, much like the seasonal pruning, is not a once-and-for-all thing.  We have to check our growth daily, we have to examine where we are remaining every day.  That might start with Sunday Mass attendance, and perhaps move on to daily Mass, praying devotions like the Rosary, reading Scripture every day, and taking time at the end of the day to see whether we’ve been part of the vine, or are in danger of breaking away from it.

    Remaining in Jesus is different for every person.  We’ve all been called to remain in him in different ways.  Some are called to remain in Jesus in the context of married and family life.  Others are called to remain in Jesus by living life as a priest, deacon, or religious brother or sister.  Others remain in Jesus by chastely living as single men and women.  Each of these ways of remaining in
    Jesus has a different style of prayer and embraces different acts of charity and service and relationships with others.  All of them are ways of remaining part of the vine, but they all must have that seasonal pruning and that daily examination that guides them back to the vine day in and day out.

    On this Mother’s Day, I am particularly struck by the spiritual example of my mother and my grandmothers.  These women have been faithful witnesses to the Gospel for me and have always encouraged me to live the most fully human life I possibly could.  They encouraged me to become all that God had created me to be, and if not for their witness and their urging, I know I would not be standing here today.  One of the many gifts God gives us in this life to encourage us in the very hard work of pruning and remaining is the gift of those who have been mother to us.  These might have been our natural mothers and grandmothers, our godmothers, our aunts or sisters or some other nurturing female presence in our lives.  For all of them today, let us give thanks, and praise our God for the ways they have helped us to be what God created us to be.

    All creation, as Eucharistic Prayer III tells us, rightly gives God praise.  But we aren’t rocks.  It’s not so easy for us to be most fully the wonderful human creation we were made to be.  But that, brothers and sisters in Christ, is our calling and our joy.  May we all support one another in our times of pruning and through our journey of remaining.  Encouraged by one another, we can all sing together with the psalmist, “I will praise you, Lord, in the assembly of your people” (Psalm 22:26a).

  • The light at the end of the tunnel?

    The light at the end of the tunnel?

    Back when I was working in the print industry, we always used to joke that whenever we'd see the light at the end of the tunnel, it would turn out to be the headlights of an oncoming train.  That was a little cynical, of course, but a sense of humor is extremely important in the print industry!

    Lately, I've seen a bit of the light at the end of the tunnel as far as my formation goes.  I graduated last Saturday with my Master of Divinity.  I didn't think it would be any big deal to me (Ordination, of course, is the big deal, right?), and I didn't plan on going to graduation at first.  But back on Family Day this year, I chose not to be on campus, because I needed some time away to grieve the loss of tragic events at our seminary.  So I promised my parents I would do graduation.

    And, of course, as these things usually go, I am glad I did.  It gave me the chance to meet the parents of some of my friends, as well as to spend some time with my friends one last time.  It helped me also to put some closure on the end of the seminary journey and this part of my formation.  It was a light at the end of a five-year tunnel.

    There's just a few weeks left until Ordination.  Then I get to live the life for which I've been preparing these last five years.  As one of our formators said in our class's end-of-the-year Mass, "It's time for you to go."  I'm excited to live the life of a priest, and all of the events of these next few weeks are lights at the end of the tunnel for me.  Yes, the tunnel does seem to go on and on, because we're never really done with our formation in life, but as you progress through it, there's more and more light.

    And, thankfully, that light isn't the headlight of an oncoming train.

  • Third Sunday of Easter: Preaching Forgiveness

    Third Sunday of Easter: Preaching Forgiveness

    Today's readings.

    Two weeks ago today, we celebrated Easter, the great feast of our salvation, when Christ rose victorious over sin and death.  Today, two weeks later, the question is, so now what?

    In today’s Liturgy of the Word, three different audiences hear the same message.  In the first reading, Peter is speaking to a Jewish audience.  This audience has just witnessed Peter and John stopping at the Temple Gate to cure a crippled man in the Name of Jesus.  These folks were used to seeing the man crippled, and for them, in that culture, at that time, being crippled meant that his life was steeped in sin.  So seeing the man cured meant also that his sins were wiped away.  The reading we have from Acts today follows that story and in it, Peter teaches that audience about the meaning of Jesus’ death and resurrection and exhorts them to repent and be converted, in order that their sins, too, might be wiped away.

    In the second reading, John is writing to his community, obviously an audience of Christians.  In that letter, John exhorts the community to avoid committing sin and to keep God’s commandments.  But because he knows that we are all weak human beings, he knows that sin happens, and so he encourages them by reminding them of Jesus Christ the righteous one, who is our expiation, who wipes away sin.

    In the Gospel, the audience is the disciples.  Jesus enters their midst and they are terrified, thinking they’ve seen a ghost.  After inviting them to touch him and after eating some cooked fish to let them know that he is not a ghost, but a real person, Jesus opens their minds so that they can understand all of the Scriptures that prophesied about his life and ministry.  He then encourages them to go out and preach repentance so that people’s sins might be wiped away.

    It almost sounds like a Lenten message, doesn’t it?  All of the readings speak of sin.  But the difference here is that all of the readings speak of sin wiped away.  And all of the readings speak of that wiping away coming about through the death and resurrection of Jesus.  Through this beautiful Paschal Mystery, the blackboards of our lives are wiped clean so that a new story, free from the effects of sin and death, can be written about us in the Name of Jesus Christ.

    Let’s take a show of hands: how many of you gave something up for Lent, or did some act of charity or service, or gave money to the poor, or spent more time in prayer or prayed a different way during Lent?  That’s great; those penitential practices helped to prepare us for the joy of Easter.  During Easter, though, we quite rightly replace all the penance and fasting with joy and feasting.  So maybe we’ve all given up those practices of fasting, almsgiving and prayer that we started during Lent.  I know that, in many ways, I have.

    But maybe we shouldn’t give up reforming our lives for Easter.  Because the so now what? of Easter is that we truly believe things have really changed.  We believe that Jesus Christ died a cruel death and rose gloriously triumphant over that death.  We believe that His death and resurrection repaired our broken relationship with God and allowed us to experience the joy of salvation.  We believe that the Paschal Mystery is what makes it possible for us to live one day with God in heaven.  None of that was possible before Easter.

    So I think we should continue to reform our lives during Easter, perhaps by continuing some of our Lenten practices.  Because the idea is not to return to our old patterns of sin.  If the things we gave up were obstacles to living a life guided by Christ in the Holy Spirit and obstacles to living in community with others, maybe we shouldn’t be so quick to go back to them.  If the works of charity, service and almsgiving we did helped us to be more aware of our many blessings and more aware of the needs of others, maybe we should look for ways to continue to grow in those virtues.  If our new practices of prayer helped us to grow closer to God and nourished our spiritual lives, maybe we should make room for that kind of prayer more often than just during Lent.  Because with the blackboards of our lives wiped clean of sin, we don’t want to go back and write the same old story. 

    So what is the story that we should be writing on those clean slates?  The Gospel tells us today: the story of the God’s forgiveness.  That story goes something like this:  Like the people in the first reading, we are called to live reformed lives.  Like the people in the second reading, we must be obedient to God’s command of love.  And like the disciples in the Gospel reading, we are called to go out and preach forgiveness of sins.

    I know what you’re thinking right now: Deacon Pat, I’m not a preacher, how can I go out and preach the forgiveness of sins?  Well, preaching, as I often need to be reminded, is much more than just speaking: it’s doing.  St. Francis said it best: “Preach the Gospel constantly.  When necessary, use words.”  Our baptism – the baptism received at the Easter vigil, or whenever it was we were baptized, and which we renewed on Easter Sunday – empowers us to be preachers of forgiveness in our daily lives.

    That might mean working to put aside the petty family squabbles, or even the significant family squabbles, that divide us.  That might mean forgetting our hurts and the offenses we’ve endured so that we can repair our families and communities.  It might mean that we are the ones who make the phone call to a friend even when we’ve done that a hundred times and they’ve seem to have lost our phone number.  Perhaps it even means swallowing our own pride and asking for forgiveness for something that wasn’t entirely our fault.  Forgiveness of sins is preached by the Church – which, brothers and sisters in Christ, is all of us – living forgiveness day in and day out.

    In my Reconciliation practicum class, I have had to memorize the very beautiful words of absolution that the priest speaks to the penitent at the end of Sacramental Confession.  The first part of that prayer goes like this: “God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son, has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins.”  Every time I hear those words in Confession, or when I speak them in practice for hearing confessions, I am overwhelmed by the great love that God has for us.  Indeed, the whole purpose of God’s unconditional love as lived in the three persons of the Trinity is to make possible the forgiveness of our sins.  So our own love of God and one another must make that forgiveness possible too.  That’s what it means for us to preach forgiveness of sins.

    Two weeks ago today, we celebrated Easter, the great feast of our salvation, when Christ rose victorious over sin and death.  Today, two weeks later, the question is, so now what?  After today’s Liturgy of the Word, I think we all know the answer to that question.  The new question is, will we do it?

  • CNS Movie Review: United 93

    CNS Movie Review: United 93

    CNS Movie Review: United 93

    NEW YORK (CNS) — Is it too soon for a big-screen drama about Sept. 11, 2001? Does anyone really want to relive the events of that awful day? Can any film that makes the attempt avoid the specter of exploitation?

    Those questions will surely percolate in the minds of prospective ticket buyers.

    And good questions they are indeed.  The CNS review seems to portray the film in a pretty good light, and it may just be worth seeing.  I had heard that the movie was controversial, and I guess the controversy is whether or not it's too soon to make this kind of movie, or if it should have been made at all.

    The real question, I think is why would someone want to see a film about That Awful Day?  Maybe it's morbid curiosity, the kind of thing that explains how the media get away with sensationalizing some of the terrible things they cover.  But maybe it's to remember those who died on Sept. 11, or to remember our own feelings that day, or even to deal with our ongoing grief.  If one of the latter are the case, maybe it would be a good movie to see after all, and it sounds like the film handles the subject pretty well, at least according to this review.

  • CNS STORY: Priests’ morale reported high despite hurt, anger at abuse crisis

    CNS STORY: Priests’ morale reported high despite hurt, anger at abuse crisis

    CNS STORY: Priests' morale reported high despite hurt, anger at abuse crisis

    WASHINGTON (CNS) — The morale of U.S. priests is high despite the hurt and anger they feel over the crisis of clergy sexual abuse of minors, a prominent priest-psychotherapist said at a seminar at The Catholic University of America.

    Father Stephen J. Rossetti, president of St. Luke Institute in Silver Spring, Md., and author of the recent book The Joy of Priesthood, led the April 24 seminar at the university's Life Cycle Institute. He reported on a survey of nearly 1,300 priests in 16 dioceses that he conducted between September 2003 and April 2005 to assess the effects of the abuse crisis on priestly morale.

    It's too bad Fr. Rossetti's numbers here are a year old.  I understand why, but I wonder what the numbers would look like after the latest round of scandal, particularly here in the Chicago/Joliet area.  Having said that, his The Joy of Priesthood would be on my required reading list for any priest or seminarian.  I read it on my priesthood retreat and found it very helpful.

    Yes, you can still find joy in your vocation in all this mess. 

  • Second Sunday of Easter: Peace Be With You

    Second Sunday of Easter: Peace Be With You

    Today's readings. 

    Why is it that you're here today?  Is it because your faith is what carries you through the highs and lows of life, because you need to worship in order to be empowered to live?  Is it because the Word of God and the life-giving Eucharist is central to who you are and vital to the service that you give?  Is it because your prayer life begins and ends in the gathered community that has its source in Christ?  Is it because you came to the 9:30 or 11:30 in the Chapel last Sunday and you heard the deacon give an incredible homily and you just couldn't stay away?

    Or are your motives a little less lofty?  Are you here because your parents pestered you until you gave up and came to Mass?  Are you here because that's what you always do on [Saturday Evening] Sunday Morning?  Are you here because you are afraid of having to confess that you didn't come?  Are you here because you are lonely, or had nothing else to do, or are desperate that God change your life?

    The good news is that if our reason for being here today is less than perfect, we have ten patron saints locked up in that room in Jerusalem.  For fear of the Jews they are together, clinging to one another, mourning their lost friend, wondering what would happen to them, and trying to make sense of the empty tomb that Mary Magdalene, Peter and the beloved disciple found earlier that day. 

    It doesn't matter what brings us together in this sacred place, because what really matters is that at least we are together; at least we are here.  And it really is an act of faith to come together every week.  More so now, perhaps, than ever before.  It would be so much easier to give in to the many scandals that keep people from the Church these days.  It would be far easier for all of us to give in to the embarrassment of being Catholic that we surely must feel every time we turn on the news these days.  It might even be understandable to find someplace else to worship, or for priests not to wear their Roman Collars in public, or for seminarians to give up pursuing the vocation to which they've been called.  But, for whatever reason, we didn't, and because we are here, together, with all of our fears and embarrassments and frailties, our Lord, in his Divine Mercy, can break through all those locked doors and say to us as he said to the Ten: "Peace be with you."

    It might be easy to give poor Doubting Thomas a hard time, but it cannot be so for those of us who come here with all our fears and doubts and uncertainties.  Because it is Thomas who speaks for us these days, when we would just as soon find some reason to write off what we've been taught and to do something else.  For those of us with modern minds who cannot and will not believe merely on the word of others, Thomas, who would not believe on the mere words of the Ten, is our spokesman.  For everyone for whom seeing is believing, Thomas's resolve to withhold judgment until he saw the Lord's hands and side is our statement of faith – such as it is.

    And I think I can understand Thomas's behavior here.  For whatever reason, he was missing from the group when the Lord came and appeared to them that first time.  He certainly must have felt left out, and perhaps hurt that he was not given the same gift that they were.  And we must remember that the Ten were all unbelieving before they saw Jesus' hands and side too: only upon seeing that were they able to exclaim: "We have seen the Lord!"

    Thomas was given the opportunity to have a much more intimate experience of the Risen Lord than did the other ten.  He alone was invited to reach out and touch Jesus in his brokenness:  "Put your finger here," Jesus says, "and see my hands, and bring your hand and put it into my side."  Here again, Thomas is invited to the faith in the same way that we are this Easter day, because we too will have the opportunity to reach out and touch our Risen Lord, broken and bruised, in the Eucharist in a few minutes.  As we take the Body and Blood of our Lord, perhaps we will hear the faith of Thomas crying out, "My Lord and my God!" 

    It is very important, I think, to notice that every time Jesus breaks through the locked doors, he offers his peace.  In the very same way, Jesus is breaking through whatever it is that is locking us up these days and saying, "Peace be with you."  The peace that Jesus offers is not just the absence of whatever conflict we are experiencing, but more so, a wholeness that binds up our brokenness, heals our wounds, and calms the cries of our doubts and fears.  We have to know that it is that peace that leads us back to this sacred place, despite whatever it is that we think has brought us here this day.  It is that peace that helps us recognize our Lord, triumphant over the grave, who silences the doubt that we all experience when we are broken and our lives are crazy, and our world is a mess, and our Church is in disarray. 

    It is that peace that brings us together to meet our Risen Lord, and which empowers us to go out in the same way the disciples did, to forgive and comfort and bless and heal and feed and love everyone in the Name of Christ.  We must remember that many have not seen the Risen Lord but may come to believe because of us.  And it is truly a sign of the Risen Lord, brothers and sisters in Christ, when we overcome our embarrassments and scandal and are united with each other. It is a sign of the Risen Lord when we, with all of our fears and doubts and imperfections, continue to serve others in the name of Christ.  When we do that, perhaps others will see the presence of Christ in us and exclaim with Thomas, "My Lord and my God!"

    So, whatever it is that has brought you here this day, please hear the words of the Risen Lord as he breaks through the locked door of your own woundedness: "Peace be with you."