Caritas Christi Urget Nos

Tag: salvation

  • The Feast of the Presentation of the Lord

    The Feast of the Presentation of the Lord

    Today’s readings

    Who is this king of glory?
    The Lord of hosts; he is the king of glory.

    Today we celebrate the traditional end of the Christmas season with this feast of the Presentation of the Lord. The current liturgical end of the Christmas season was back on January 12th, the feast of the Baptism of the Lord. But the older tradition reflected what we have seen in the readings for the Sundays ever since, and that is remnants of the Epiphany, or manifestation of who Christ is in our world. On Epiphany, Jesus was manifested to the Magi as priest, prophet and king. On the Baptism of the Lord, Jesus was baptized as the eternal Son of the Father, with whom the Father was well-pleased. Today, Jesus is manifested as a light to the Gentiles and the glory of Israel, as the king of glory.

    Like Epiphany, this feast of the Presentation of the Lord is a feast of light. On Epiphany the world was illumined by a star that pointed to the true Light of the world. Today, a world grown dark is illumined by that true Light and the glory of God sheds light on the whole world: Gentiles and Israelites alike. So today, the Church has always blessed candles, which we did at the beginning of Mass today. The reason the Church lights candles is always to draw our attention to Christ our Light, in the midst of whatever darkness the world throws at us. This feast is a foreshadowing of the Easter Vigil, when the deacon proclaims in a darkened church, “Lumen Christi,” “The Light of Christ,” and the Church responds, “Deo Gratias,” “Thanks be to God.” Today is a foretaste of Easter, when the true Light of the World, Christ our Light, will definitively conquer every darkness.

    And so you will be invited today to purchase some of the candles we just blessed to take into your home. Traditionally these blessed candles have been used in many ways: to be a sign of Christ’s presence when the priest is called to anoint a dying loved one; to be lit during a storm to remind us of Jesus who had power to conquer every storm; to be lit when the family gathers for prayer so that we remember that whenever we gather in Christ’s name, he is there in our midst. Every family should have blessed candles in their home because every family has times when Christ’s light needs to burn brightly.

    Those blessed candles which remind us of the presence of our Savior in good times and in bad remind us that we, too are meant to be the light of Christ. And we are called to be the light because the world has times of darkness too. The world needs us to be the light that scatters the darkness of apathy by looking in on a sick neighbor or bringing a meal to a family that has suffered the death of a loved one. We are called to be the light that scatters the darkness of ignorance by mentoring a young person, or opening our home to a foster child, or being a catechist. We are called to be the light that scatters the darkness of racism by standing in solidarity with our brothers and sisters, no matter where they’ve come from. We have to be the light that scatters the darkness of death by taking every opportunity to oppose abortion, euthanasia, and any endeavor that cheapens human life. We have to be the light that scatters the sadness of a spiritually bereft world by joyfully living our faith and standing up for what we believe. The world needs the light of Christ, and you might be the only candle someone sees on a given day. Be the light, friends: be Christ’s presence. People of faith don’t have any other option than that.

    The Methodist minister William L. Watkinson once said, “It is better to light a candle than to curse the darkness.” We can look at the darkness of our world – and there is plenty of it! – and shake our heads and walk away in sadness, but that doesn’t shed any light. We have to acknowledge the darkness and remember, as the Gospel of John proclaims, “the Light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.” We are Catholics and we believe and proclaim that there is no darkness on earth that Christ our Light can’t overcome with the brightness of his glory. It is up to us to light the candle that helps others to see that glory.

    In today’s Gospel reading, Simeon and Anna experienced the power of the Light of the World. They had been waiting and praying and fasting for the day of his appearance, and those prayers were answered. The Lord came suddenly to the temple, as Malachi prophesied, and they could now be at peace. But that appearance of the Lord requires a response: one doesn’t just experience the light and remain the same. Christ our light is that refiner’s fire that purifies the lives of his chosen ones so that they might go out and shed light on our dark world.

    And I don’t mean for this to just be an academic or poetic discussion. The light of Christ is not a mere metaphor. Being the light for the world isn’t just a “yeah, maybe I should do that some day” kind of thing. Every baptized one, according to her or his station in life, is called to actively shed light on the world. So let’s take a few moments to pray with this.

    • Call to mind a darkness that you have noticed, either in your life, in your community, or in the world: a darkness that affects you or those around you.
    • Take a moment to talk with Jesus about that darkness and let him know your concern.
    • Listen for Jesus as he acknowledges the darkness and accepts your concern.
    • Ask him for the grace to shed some light, small or big, on that darkness. Listen for him to tell you what he wants you to do.
    • If you don’t hear that call right away, bring it to your prayer this week. Ask Jesus for grace to be the light.

    And we pray: Christ be our light, shine in our hearts, shine through the darkness. Christ be our light, shine in your Church, gathered today.

  • The Solemnity of the Nativity of the Lord: Mass During the Day

    The Solemnity of the Nativity of the Lord: Mass During the Day

    Today’s readings

    There is a meme that has been going around on social media for a little while now, called “How it Started vs. How it’s Going.” The meme in general has two pictures, one labeled, obviously, “How it started” and the other “How it’s Going.” When it started, it was a way, on social media, to show the progress of a relationship. One picture would show the proposal or the first date, and the other would show a picture representative of the relationship at this point. Now it has evolved a bit, and often it will be a humorous meme. One meme I saw showed a famous chef early on in his career, and the “how it’s going” showed him flambeing a dessert with a huge ball of fire. Another showed the incredible Hulk as a mild mannered everyday guy, then after he got mad. You get the idea.

    Today’s Gospel reading makes me think of those memes. The first three words of the Gospel of John are the same as the first three words of the book of Genesis: “In the beginning.” How it started was that there was nothing, a swirling void as Genesis portrays it. But through Jesus, God the Word, working with God the Father, everything in the universe came to be. The Gospel tells us how it’s going:

    And the Word became flesh
    and made his dwelling among us,
    and we saw his glory,
    the glory as of the Father’s only Son,
    full of grace and truth.

    The Old Testament unfolds for us the many ways that God has intervened in history to save his people. He placed man and woman in the Garden of Eden, safe from all harm, should they choose to accept it (which, of course, they did not!). He brought eight people through the deluge of the great flood on Noah’s Ark. He promised Abraham his descendants would be as numerous as the stars of the sky. He led his people out of slavery in Egypt, through the desert and into the Promised Land, protecting them and guiding them through the hand of Moses all along the way. His love for his people, his desire that they be one with him, and his efforts to save them from their own folly have been abundant all through human history. But as numerous as his efforts have been, so have humankind’s failures to follow him been numerous as well.

    Which brings us to the event we celebrate today. Let’s be clear: this is not some last-ditch effort before he throws up his hands and leaves us to our own devices. This is the saving event, and there is no other. This is the way to salvation that has always been intended and has been promised through the ages, from the very days of the creation of the world, when the Word, as Saint John tells us today, was with God, and with God, created everything in heaven and on earth.

    This awesome event is the Incarnation: Jesus, the Word through which all were created, comes to be one of the created ones. This is the first and best of the mysteries of our faith: without the Incarnation, there could be no cross, no resurrection, no ascension, no salvation. None of the savings events of the Old Testament could be as effective and powerful as the Incarnation and the Paschal Mystery: in fact, those previous acts of salvation led up to the salvation we have in Christ Jesus, and paved the way for that saving act. In today’s feast, the great light of Christ has taken hold of the darkness this world brings to us and shatters it forever, shining great light into every corner of our dark world, and our sometimes very dark lives as well.

    This gift of the Incarnation is the best Christmas present we will receive – it is the best gift of any kind that we will ever receive, because in the Incarnation we have what’s necessary for us to be saved. This is so important a mystery and so great a gift, that at the words of the Incarnation in the Creed today, we are instructed to genuflect, not just bow. So we will genuflect when we say the words, “by the power of the Holy Spirit, He was born of the Virgin Mary, and became man.” And we genuflect because we remember with great gratitude that if the Word didn’t become flesh, if he wasn’t born of the Virgin Mary, if he didn’t become one like us, if he didn’t pay the price for our sins, we would never have salvation, or hope of life with God. Praise God for this great gift today!

    And so as we continue our prayer today, we offer God the darkness in our lives: our sins, our frustrations, our disappointments, our pain, our grief – and we hold up all of this to the great Light that is God’s Word, the one who became one like us, who pitched his tent among us, and who dwells with us now. We pray that the Light of the world would banish our darkness, and help us to see the way to God from wherever it is that we find ourselves on the spiritual path today. We celebrate that today and every day, Jesus Christ is the Light that shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. That’s how it’s going for all who believe in Jesus and long for his salvation.

    Merry Christmas to all of you, and may God bless you in the year ahead.

  • Tuesday of the Second Week in Advent

    Tuesday of the Second Week in Advent

    Today’s readings

    In this morning’s readings, our God is doing everything possible to get our attention. Salvation is God’s number one priority and he won’t rest until all have come to it. And so he sends Isaiah to “cry out” so many truths that we need to absorb: flesh is fading, but the word of the Lord is forever; the glory of the Lord will be revealed; our guilt is expiated. And this is all good news if we would receive it, but humanity is prone to tuning God out, especially if times are good.

    And so he literally jumps up and down to get our attention: Isaiah runs up to the top of a high mountain crying out, “Here is your God!” And failing all of that, God becomes the good shepherd, who notices us lost sheep and sets out to bring us back, even though it would seem – to us – to be wiser not to do so, lest the other ninety-nine scatter.

    God wants us all to come to salvation. He won’t rest until we are where we should be. He wants us all to open our hearts and receive him. He comes among us, as the Psalmist says, “to rule the world with justice, and the peoples with his constancy.” God urgently seeks to bind up all the broken and lost ones and bring everyone to the kingdom. That’s Advent. Blessed are we when we hear God crying out to us and respond.

    Maranatha! Come, Lord Jesus!

  • Tuesday of the Thirty-third Week in Ordinary Time

    Tuesday of the Thirty-third Week in Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    I just love this story about Zacchaeus! In particular, there are two main components of the story that really stand out for me as hallmarks of the spiritual life.

    The first is Zacchaeus’s openness. First, he is so eager to see Jesus that he climbs up a tree to get a look at him. We don’t have to go that far. All we have to do is spend some time in the Adoration Chapel, or even just some quiet moments reflecting on Scripture, or meditative prayer, even participating in Mass. All of those are ways to see Jesus, but like Zacchaeus, we have to overcome obstacles to get a look at him. For Zacchaeus, that meant climbing up a tree to overcome the fact that he was apparently vertically challenged! But for you and me, that might mean clearing our schedule, making our time with Jesus a priority. Zacchaeus’s openness also included inviting Jesus in, despite his sinfulness. He was willing to make up for his sin and change everything once he found the Lord. We might ask ourselves today what we need to change, and how willing we are to invite Jesus into our lives, despite our brokenness.

    The second thing that stands out for me is what Jesus says to those who chided him for going into a sinner’s house. “For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save what was lost.” What wonderful words those are for us to hear. Because we know how lost we have been at times, and how far we have wandered from our Lord. But the Lord seeks us out anyway, because we are too valuable for him to lose.

    And all we have to do is to be open to the Lord’s work in our lives, just like Zacchaeus was. What a joy it will be then to hear those same words Jesus said to him: “Today salvation has come to this house.”

  • The Easter Vigil in the Holy Night

    The Easter Vigil in the Holy Night

    We should glory in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ,
    in whom is our salvation, life and resurrection,
    through whom we are saved and delivered.

    That was the entrance antiphon for this great Triduum of God’s mercy which began on Thursday night, as we gathered for the Evening Mass of the Lord’s Supper. It rightly focused these three days on the Cross, which has been and always is the altar of our salvation. Tonight is no different: the focus is on the cross, that instrument of torture and death whose evil has been ultimately and forever defeated by that for which we kept vigil this night.

    Over these past days, the Cross has become an icon of God’s love, the ladder to eternity, the linchpin of grace.  That horrible Cross was, on Holy Thursday, the threat of obscurity to a people under the thumb of the Roman Empire.  That same Cross became on Good Friday the delight of Satan, whose evil laughter we could almost hear when our Savior died.  Tonight, as we have kept vigil, we have seen that the Cross has become the altar of God’s most conclusive act of self-emptying, opening the door of grace to all of us who have already died the death of sin.  The Cross is proof that there is nothing the princes of this world, nor the prince of darkness himself, can do to thwart the salvation God offers us.  The cross is, indeed, our glory!

    On Thursday evening, we gathered for the Mass of the Lord’s Supper. Father James taught us that union with Christ is union with the whole Christ. That the love of Christ has to be poured out in every situation according to our life’s vocation and station in life. That that love has to sanctify the priest and his congregation, the parent and the child, the Christian with the stranger in need. Because it was Christ who showed us that way, and poured his love on us, washing our feet and feeding us with the Eucharist.

    Yesterday afternoon, we gathered for the Liturgy of the Lord’s Passion. I talked about the crosses we all bear and unite with the cross of Our Lord, and how we see our own disfigurement on the face of the suffering servant hanging on the Cross.

    As we have kept Vigil here on this Holy Night, we have heard the stories of our salvation.  We have seen that time and time again, God has broken through the history of our brokenness, has triumphed over the lure of sin, and has redirected his chosen ones to the path of life.  Salvation history has brought us to the fullness of this night, not just a memorial of the Resurrection, but a real sharing in Christ’s triumph.  This is the night when Christ makes the ultimate Passover; leading us through the Red Sea of his blood, poured out for us, holding back the raging waters of sin and death, and guiding us, his brothers and sisters, into the Promised Land of salvation.  This is the night when the fire of his love blazes for all eternity to provide an enduring light in our dark world.  This is the night when our faith tells us that we are not the same as the rest of the world; we are a people set apart from all that drags humanity down to death.  This is the night when death itself is defeated by Christ our God rising from the depths of the underworld!

    God delights in the freedom of will that we possess as a natural part of who we are because it gives us the opportunity to freely choose to love him, as he freely chooses to love us.  But he knows that same free will can and will also lead us astray, into sin, into evil.  The free choice to love God is a greater good than the absence of evil, so not imbuing us with free will was never an option.  Instead, the evil of our sin is redeemed on this most holy of all nights, this night which “dispels wickedness, washes faults away, restores innocence to the fallen, and joy to mourners, drives out hatred, fosters concord, and brings down the mighty.”

    And so it is fitting that this night is the night when we also focus on Baptism.  Everything is in place: the waters of the Red Sea are parted, the pillar of fire glows to the honor of God, we are led to grace and joined to God’s holy ones of every time and place, Christ emerges triumphant from the underworld and the sin of Adam is redeemed forever.  And so our Elect in a few moments will enter the waters of Baptism, renouncing the prince of darkness, professing faith in God, dying with Christ in the waters, emerging to new life, triumphant with Christ, and encountering the bright morning star whose light blazes for all eternity.  We will hold our breath as the waters flow over them, and sing Alleluia when they are reborn, crying out the praise of God with all the joy the Church can muster!

    This is the night that redeems all our days and nights.  This is the night when sin and death are rendered impotent by the fruitful plunging of the Paschal candle, the Light of Christ, into the waters of Baptism.  This is the night that even the Cross, that instrument of cruelty and death, is transfigured, redeemed to the praise and honor and glory of God!

    Christ is indeed the Morning Star who never sets, the one whose glorious light shines brightly to burst the darkness of sin and the grave, the one who cheated death of its hold on us, and shines the bright light of his presence on a world grown cold and dark, the one who lives and reigns for ever and ever.

    Christ is risen!
    He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

  • Saturday of the Fifth Week of Lent

    Saturday of the Fifth Week of Lent

    Today’s readings

    Caiaphas had no idea how prophetic his words were. Actually, as far as the intent of his words went, they were nothing but selfish. The Jews didn’t want to lose their standing with the Romans. As it was, they had an uneasy peace. The Romans pretty much let them practice their religion as long as there wasn’t any trouble. But they knew that if everyone started following Jesus, the Romans would give preference to the new way, in order to keep the peace. The religious leaders couldn’t let that happen, so they began plotting in earnest to kill Jesus, planning to find him when he came to celebrate the upcoming feast day, which they were certain he would attend.

    It’s a time of high intrigue, and for Jesus, his hour – the hour of his Passion – is fast approaching. That’s so clear in the Gospel readings in these last days of Lent. In just a few hours we will begin our celebration of Holy Week, waving palms to welcome our king, and praying through his passion and death. It is an emotional time for us as we know our God has given his life for us, the most amazing gift we will ever get. It is also a time of sadness because we know our sins have nailed him to the cross.

    But, this is where the significance of Caiaphas’s words brings us joy. Yes, it is better for one person to die than the whole nation. God knew that well when he sent his only Son to be our salvation. Jesus took our place, nailing our sins and brokenness to the cross, dying to pay the price those sins required, and rising to bring the salvation we could never attain on our own. Caiaphas was right. It was better for one person to die than for the whole nation to die. Amazing as it seems, that was God’s plan all along.

  • Saturday of the Ninth Week of Ordinary Time

    Saturday of the Ninth Week of Ordinary Time

    Today’s readings

    A king’s secret it is prudent to keep,
    but the works of God are to be made known with due honor.

    Today we hear the end of the story we have been reflecting on all week.  Tobit and Tobiah’s family fortune has been restored; Sarah’s sadness from her seven previous husbands dying on their wedding night has been turned into joy when she was given in marriage to Tobit.  And finally, in yesterday’s first reading, Tobit helps heal his father’s blindness, and Tobiah sings in praise to God.  It’s an almost uncharacteristically happy ending for a book of the Old Testament!

    But happiness, real happiness, eternal happiness, that is the purpose of the Scriptures.  That happiness comes finally from the resurrection of Our Lord which opens to us the way to salvation.  Just as Tobiah and Sarah were saved from their ailments, so we are saved from the ailments of sin and death by the death and resurrection of Christ.  The happy ending of the book of Tobit foreshadows the happy ending of the life of grace which we receive by following our Risen Lord.

    But, as the archangel Raphael makes clear twice in today’s first reading, this happiness is not to be a well-guarded secret.  Some things are best kept secret, sure, but not salvation, not the works of God.  So we have to be disciples who live as saved people and tell everyone the reason for our happiness.  Others need to see our joy so they can experience it too.

    A king’s secret it is prudent to keep,
    but the works of God are to be made known with due honor.

  • The Easter Vigil in the Holy Night

    The Easter Vigil in the Holy Night

    Today’s readings

    Sometimes when I’m preaching to children about a reading with light and darkness themes, I’ll ask them who is, or ever has been, afraid of the dark.  As you can well imagine, most of the hands go up, and probably all of them should go up.  And I don’t think that experience is limited to children.  How many of us, when we are driving along an unfamiliar road late at night, or during a storm, are more than a little nervous when looking for our next turn?  Or how many of us are more than a little wary about being in certain areas after dark?  And even closer to home, how many of us have our hearts pound a little faster when we hear a strange noise in the middle of the night?

    A couple of years ago now, I woke up what sounded like an explosion in the middle of the night.  I looked out all the windows, and couldn’t see anything unusual.  Nobody lives above me so it wasn’t like someone fell out of bed.  It took me a while to calm down and I finally went back to sleep.  I found out the next day a car had exploded in a parking lot over at the high school.  It certainly got my blood pumping in the early hours.

    We’ve all heard the warning: nothing good ever happens after dark.  Watching the news bears that out.  You hear about people being shot, carjacked, robbed at all hours of the night, and you wonder why anyone is out and about at that hour.  Sure, sometimes they work at that time of night, but not nearly all of them.  Why would anyone else be out messing around at that hour?  Being out in the wee hours often leads to trouble.  Nothing good ever happens after dark.

    Except on this night.

    On this night, the best thing ever happened.  On this night, the debt of our ancient sinfulness was canceled.  On this night, our Lord triumphed over sin and death.  On this night, everything changed, for the better, on this night the best thing ever happened after dark!  “This is the night, when Christ broke the prison-bars of death and rose victorious from the underworld!”  The Exsultet, sung at the beginning of our time together this night, tells us just how glorious this night actually is:

    The sanctifying power of this night
    dispels wickedness, washes faults away,
    restores innocence to the fallen, and joy to mourners,
    drives out hatred, fosters concord, and brings down the mighty. 

    That’s how much power this night actually has.  Whereas so many nights have brought, and continue to bring, sadness to so many, this night brings joy to mourners.  Whereas so many nights have brought fear and anguish and hatred, this night restores innocence, drives out hatred, and fosters concord.  This night obliterates evil, gives new luster to souls that have been tarnished by sin, and destroys the power of the mighty to bring misery to the humble.  This one night turns everything upside-down and introduces a new reign of glory.

    Tonight we have heard in reading after reading, that God will absolutely not ever abandon his loved and chosen ones to sin and death.  We have heard that God initiated the covenant and pursues it forever, never forcing us to accept his will, but willing that we should follow him and accept his mercy.  God has provided the lamb of salvation, the acceptable sacrifice which brings salvation to the whole world.  God has gone to the cross and been in the tomb and descended to hell – there is nowhere that is beyond the reach of God’s mercy, there is no place, no depth to which God will not go to redeem his beloved creation.  God’s mercy endures forever!

    God delights in the freedom of will that we possess as a natural part of who we are, because it gives us the opportunity to freely choose to love him, as he freely chooses to love us.  But he knows that same free will can and will also lead us astray, into sin, into evil.  The free choice to love God is a greater good than the absence of evil, so not imbuing us with free will was never an option.  Instead, evil and sin and our fallenness are redeemed on this most holy of all nights.

    We have been praying and waiting and remembering and entering in to the events of our Lord’s passion and death for three days now.  On Thursday evening, Father Ramon invited us to imagine being part of the first community of believers after the death and resurrection of Jesus.  We imagined coming to Jerusalem and looking for someone to tell us about Jesus.  Then we were invited to fall on our knees in worship and adoration as we celebrated the Eucharist in memory of him.  On Friday afternoon, Father John encouraged us to not just see what we did to Jesus, but also what Jesus did for us.  He invited us to find Jesus on the cross, uniting our own passions with his, and glorying in the grace of what Our Lord did for us.  And tonight we get to see that glory, as we sing our Alleluias and know that death no longer has power over us.

    Now we get to focus on salvation that is our in the sacraments.  Especially tonight, we remember our own baptisms, and we look forward to the baptism of our eight Elect who have been preparing for this night for two years.  Everything is in place: the waters of the Red Sea are parted, the pillar of fire glows to the honor of God, we are led to grace and joined to God’s holy ones of every time and place, Christ emerges triumphant from the underworld and the sin of Adam is redeemed forever.  And so these eight Elect, in a few moments will enter the waters of Baptism, renouncing the prince of darkness, professing faith in God, dying with Christ in the waters, emerging to new life, triumphant with Christ, and encountering the bright morning star whose light blazes for all eternity.  We will hold our breath as the waters flow over them, and sing Alleluia when they are reborn, crying out the praise of God with all the joy the Church can muster!

    Our joy will continue to overflow as they are Confirmed in the Holy Spirit and fed for the very first time with the Eucharistic Bread of Life.  God’s mercy has once again triumphed and brought these wonderful young people into the family of the Church and the community of our parish.  God’s goodness shows forth all its splendor in so many wonderful ways on this most holy of all nights!

    This is the night that redeems all of our days and nights.  This is the night when sin and death are rendered impotent by the plunging of the Paschal candle, the Light of Christ, into the waters of Baptism.  On this night, everything is turned upside-down; sin and death no longer define who we are as human beings; the forces of evil search in vain for darkness in which to cower, because the bright morning star has washed the darkness away.  On this night, the waters of Baptism put death to death, wash away faults and wickedness, give refreshment to those who are parched for holiness, and bring life to all who have withered in the desert of brokenness.

    And so, may the flame of our joy, blazing against the darkness of the world’s night, be found still burning by the Morning Star:  the one Morning Star who never sets, Christ our Lord, God’s only Son, who coming back from even from the depths of death’s domain, has shed his peaceful light on humanity, and lives and reigns for ever and ever!  Amen!

    Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

  • Palm Sunday of the Passion of Our Lord

    Palm Sunday of the Passion of Our Lord

    Today’s readings

    Palm Sunday is a Liturgy that can be a little puzzling. We start out on a seemingly triumphant note.  Jesus enters Jerusalem, the Holy City, and the center of the Jewish religion; the city he has been journeying toward throughout the gospel narrative, and he enters it to the adulation of crowds of people assembled for the feast.  Cloaks are thrown down in the street, the people wave palms and chant “Hosanna.”  This is it, isn’t it?  It seems like Jesus’ message has finally been accepted, at least by the crowds who have long been yearning for a Messiah, an anointed one, to deliver them from foreign oppression.

    Only that wasn’t the kind of salvation Jesus came to offer.  Instead, he preached forgiveness and mercy and real justice and healed people from the inside out.  He called people to repentance, to change their lives, to hear the gospel and to live it every day.  He denounced hypocrisy, and demanded that those who would call themselves religious reach out in love to the poor and those on the margins.  It wasn’t a welcome message; it wasn’t the message they thought the messiah would bring.

    I think it’s instructive to reflect on the groups of people reacting to Jesus and turning their backs on him just five days after the triumph they offered.  First there are the Jewish leaders who were jealous and suspicious and angry about the way Our Lord called them out for abandoning the people and instead insisting on the rigorous and mindless observance of the law.  There are the Romans, those foreign occupiers who wanted the people to be quiet, obedient, and paying taxes, and who often sided with the Sanhedrin in order to keep the people docile.  There are the crowds, Jews and Gentiles, who were happy enough to be fed with miracles but disappointed that Jesus wasn’t the same kind of Messiah they were praying for, and instead was one who called them to repentance, a change in their lives.  There were the apostles, who you would think would trust Jesus by now, but instead fled in fear.  There was Peter who abandoned his friend, and Judas who gave in to despair.  There was Herod and Pilate who were manipulating the event trying to maintain their own pathetic little piece of history.  It’s almost a perfect storm.

    Who are we going to blame for this?  Whose fault is it that they crucified my Lord?  Well, we know none of those groups and people are really to blame.  They certainly did Jesus wrong, but that wasn’t ever the reason he went to the Cross.  Jesus was crucified for me.  For you.  For our sins.  For those sins that have kept us from being friends of God for far too long.  For those sins that have abandoned God and rejected his grace time and time again.  Jesus came, and lived, and bled, and died to take away my sins.  And yours.  He willingly gave his life so that we might live. 

    He gave himself for us.

    We adore you, O Christ, and we bless you.  Because by your Holy Cross you have redeemed the world.

  • Tuesday of the Fifth Week of Lent

    Tuesday of the Fifth Week of Lent

    Today’s readings

    Just as the saraph serpent was lifted up on a pole in the desert for the people to see, and thus live, so the Son of Man, Jesus Christ, was lifted up on the cross for the salvation of the world.  In these late Lenten days, the Church is looking to the Cross, looking toward Jerusalem, knowing that the hour of the Lord, in which he would pay the dear price of our salvation, is near at hand.

    With hearts filled with gratitude, we come to this Eucharist, with our eyes fixed on our Lord lifted up for us, who pours himself out for us again and still.  When we see him lifted up, we remember that he is “I AM,” our crucified and risen Lord, and whenever we look to him, we are saved from all that ails us, from our sins and brokenness, and we ourselves are lifted up to eternal life.

    Our challenge in these late Lenten days is to be that icon of the Cross, like the saraph serpent, to whom people can look and find healing and salvation. We have to be the image of Christ crucified so that the world can become whole.