29 May 2011 - 6th Sunday of Easter [Cycle A]

May 29, 2011 - Sixth Sunday of Easter

Reading 1 - Acts 8:5-8, 14-17
Philip went down to the city of Samaria and proclaimed the Christ to them. With one accord, the crowds paid attention to what was said by Philip when they heard it and saw the signs he was doing. For unclean spirits, crying out in a loud voice, came out of many possessed people, and many paralyzed or crippled people were cured. There was great joy in that city.

Now when the apostles in Jerusalem heard that Samaria had accepted the word of God, they sent them Peter and John, who went down and prayed for them, that they might receive the Holy Spirit, for it had not yet fallen upon any of them; they had only been baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus. Then they laid hands on them and they received the Holy Spirit.

Responsorial Psalm - Ps 66:1-3, 4-5, 6-7, 16, 20

R. (1) Let all the earth cry out to God with joy.
Shout joyfully to God, all the earth, sing praise to the glory of his name;
Proclaim his glorious praise. Say to God, “How tremendous are your deeds!”
R. Let all the earth cry out to God with joy.
“Let all on earth worship and sing praise to you, sing praise to your name!”
Come and see the works of God, his tremendous deeds among the children of Adam.
R. Let all the earth cry out to God with joy.
He has changed the sea into dry land; through the river they passed on foot;
therefore let us rejoice in him. He rules by his might forever.
R. Let all the earth cry out to God with joy.
Hear now, all you who fear God, while I declare what he has done for me.
Blessed be God who refused me not my prayer or his kindness!
R. Let all the earth cry out to God with joy.

Reading 2 - 1 Pt 3:15-18

Beloved: Sanctify Christ as Lord in your hearts. Always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope, but do it with gentleness and reverence,
keeping your conscience clear, so that, when you are maligned, those who defame your good conduct in Christ may themselves be put to shame. For it is better to suffer for doing good,
if that be the will of God, than for doing evil. For Christ also suffered for sins once, the righteous for the sake of the unrighteous, that he might lead you to God. Put to death in the flesh, he was brought to life in the Spirit.

Gospel - Jn 14:15-21

Jesus said to his disciples: “If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to be with you always, the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot accept, because it neither sees nor knows him. But you know him, because he remains with you, and will be in you. I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you. In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me, because I live and you will live. On that day you will realize that I am in my Father and you are in me and I in you. Whoever has my commandments and observes them is the one who loves me. And whoever loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and reveal myself to him.”

Reflection

The three vows taken by members of religious orders (for example the Franciscans, Dominicans, or Jesuits) are: poverty, chastity, and obedience. Most of us have an innate understanding of poverty—it’s the lack of any material possessions. For most orders, that means that individual members do not “own” any of the things they use, like cars or computers. Rather, these items belong to the larger religious community and are shared by the members. What many on the outside might see as a type of deprivation—not actually owning a cell phone or laptop or dvd player—most vowed religious would describe as a form of liberation. Freedom FROM material belongings is how many sisters, brothers, and priests, would characterize the vow.

Chastity, too, though itself not terribly well-understood, seems to make sense. By forgoing a family, one is able to give oneself unreservedly to an entire community, be it a religious sister who runs an orphanage for HIV-positive children in Kenya, or a Franciscan priest who performs innumerable tasks from sacramental prep to soup kitchen cleanup. By sacrificing one human good, i.e. the intimacy and fulfillment of marriage, one is “freed” to participate in another type of flourishing, i.e. ministering whole-selfedly to the people of God.

But of the vows that religious women and men take, perhaps least familiar to us is that of obedience. Generally, we Americans have a visceral negative reaction to the word, “obedience.” It takes us back to a time when we were younger, and our parents or school teachers would punish us for being disobedient, i.e. for passing notes in class or breaking curfew as a teen. Or, we may think of the military, picturing famous movie portrayals of apoplectic drill sergeants screaming violently at quivering recruits for failing to obey an order.

Imagine if a friend were asked to describe you using a few modifiers, and she said, “S/He is hard-working, perseverant, dedicated, and selfless. Oh, and s/he’s also very obedient.” That last one would probably cause you to raise an eyebrow. While we wouldn’t necessarily DIS-like being described as obedient… we probably wouldn’t be quite sure if it was a compliment, either. Indeed, many modern couples have chosen to eliminate the word, “obey” from their marriage vows, out of a sense that marital love should not entail one partner ever giving orders to, or having to obey orders from, the other. So why is it that Jesus, in today’s Gospel, asserts that, the way to tell if someone loves God, is if that person “keeps God’s commandments,” or as it’s rendered in a different translation, “is obedient to the Commandments of God”?

Here, it is helpful to re-visit the Jewish approach to the Law, i.e. the Commandments, since after all, Jesus was a devout Jew. For Jews, adherence to the Law is not a matter of simple, unquestioning obedience to a set of arbitrarily articulated and mercilessly enforced rules. Rather, the Law is given as a gift from God for humanity’s benefit. The 613 Commandments of the Mosaic Law were not perceived as suppressing human freedom, but as helping people live more fully human lives.

When a parent tells a child she must eat her broccoli and go to bed at a reasonable hour, it is not because the parent is reveling in her position of authority and delighting in the ability to order the child around. Rather, these rules are designed for the child’s sake, that is, that the child might get enough vitamins and sleep, and therefore be healthy and happy. Most children, at some point or another, will be disobedient—refusing to eat the vegetables or throwing a tantrum at bedtime. What the child fails to understand is that these rules are rooted in love and crafted in wisdom—the very fact that the parent is willing to absorb the child’s screaming and still insist on bedtime is evidence of how much the parent loves the child! If the parent truly did not care about the child—or simply did not love the child ENOUGH to consider it worth the while to deal with these nightly antics—then the parent would simply say, “Fine, eat brownies every night and go to bed at midnight,” which indubitably would result in the child getting sick. The testimony of a parent’s love is precisely the fact that s/he is willing to be “the bad guy” and insist on obedience to these “stupid” rules. And what many parents would prefer to receive on a birthday or Mother’s Day, far more than Hallmark cards or presents from Macy’s, would be for the children simply to obey when Mom says it’s time to go to bed. Imagine a parent saying, “I don’t need a new bottle of perfume… I just want you guys to stop battling me every night when it’s time to go to bed!” That is, the parent is essentially saying, “It’s nice that you kids sign pretty cards and buy me flowers, but if you really wanna show me how much you love me… just stop disobeying me! The rules are there for your own good!”

Even though we are adults, we remain children in the eyes of God, and God’s invitation that we call Him “Father” invokes the comparison of a parent who insists that we eat our broccoli and not text while driving. Jesus says to the disciples, “If you really want to show God how much you love Him, stop sacrificing birds at the Temple and singing hymns of effusive praise… just keep the Commandments! Stop disobeying!” Like young children who tell their parents, “I love you Mommy/Daddy!” on their Birthday, but then continue to break rules around the house, we, similarly, are all too eager to declare on Sunday how much we love God, by dressing up, going to Church, and singing songs. We show up on Good Friday and venerate the Cross, and we are sure to get a smudge on our forehead on Ash Wednesday, all of which are external signs we use to try to express to God that we love Him and appreciate all He has done for us.

And yet, what Jesus says, throughout the Gospels, is that God is far less interested in singing and sacrifice, than He is in us simply following the Commandments—which, like the rules of a parent, are rooted in love and designed for our own good! Once we recognize that the purpose of “the Law” is not to suppress our freedom and prevent us from having any fun… and acknowledge that they are supposed to be guidelines to help us live a happier, healthier life, then “keeping the Commandments” will no longer seem burdensome, but will give us great joy.

So what are the Commandments, and how do we keep them? Throughout the Gospels, Jesus teaches us to “love one another as I have loved you,” and explicates a way of following the Law that involves caring for the poor, the vulnerable, and the least among us. It requires that we consider how our behavior affects others and demands that we honestly survey the contents of our heart to root out anger, envy, and anxiety. But Jesus also recognizes that we cannot do this alone; that, like children who are just too tempted by the box of Oreos in the cabinet when we’re supposed to be saving room for the spinach at dinner, we require help to ward off temptation. And so Jesus describes the coming of the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, who is sent to assist us in this process. The Greek word Jesus uses here is Parakletos, or Paraclete, which means “one who is sent in to assist.” It could be akin to a corporate consultant who is temporarily brought on board to help a company that is struggling; or it could be like a lawyer who is asked to provide legal counsel when one is facing charges. Regardless, the very notion of the Paraclete, the Holy Spirit, is that we cannot do it ourselves, and we will need help. Therefore, let us have the humility to acknowledge this need, and to ask the Holy Spirit for help!

22 May 2011 [Cycle A]

May 22, 2011 - Fifth Sunday of Easter

Reading 1 - Acts 6:1-7
As the number of disciples continued to grow, the Hellenists complained against the Hebrews because their widows were being neglected in the daily distribution. So the Twelve called together the community of the disciples and said, “It is not right for us to neglect the word of God to serve at table. Brothers, select from among you seven reputable men, filled with the Spirit and wisdom, whom we shall appoint to this task, whereas we shall devote ourselves to prayer and to the ministry of the word.”

The proposal was acceptable to the whole community, so they chose Stephen, a man filled with faith and the Holy Spirit, also Philip, Prochorus, Nicanor, Timon, Parmenas, and Nicholas of Antioch, a convert to Judaism. They presented these men to the apostles who prayed and laid hands on them. The word of God continued to spread, and the number of the disciples in Jerusalem increased greatly; even a large group of priests were becoming obedient to the faith.

Responsorial Psalm - Ps 33:1-2, 4-5, 18-19
R. (22) Lord, let your mercy be on us, as we place our trust in you.
Exult, you just, in the LORD; praise from the upright is fitting.
Give thanks to the LORD on the harp; with the ten-stringed lyre chant his praises.
R. Lord, let your mercy be on us, as we place our trust in you.
Upright is the word of the LORD, and all his works are trustworthy.
He loves justice and right; of the kindness of the LORD the earth is full.
R. Lord, let your mercy be on us, as we place our trust in you.
See, the eyes of the LORD are upon those who fear him, upon those who hope for his kindness,
To deliver them from death and preserve them in spite of famine.
R. Lord, let your mercy be on us, as we place our trust in you.

Reading 2 - 1 Peter 2: 4-9
Beloved: Come to him, a living stone, rejected by human beings but chosen and precious in the sight of God, and, like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. For it says in Scripture: Behold, I am laying a stone in Zion, a cornerstone, chosen and precious, and whoever believes in it shall not be put to shame.

Therefore, its value is for you who have faith, but for those without faith: The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone, and A stone that will make people stumble, and a rock that will make them fall. They stumble by disobeying the word, as is their destiny. You are “a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people of his own, so that you may announce the praises” of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.


Gospel - John 14: 1-12
Jesus said to his disciples: “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If there were not, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be. Where I am going you know the way.”

Thomas said to him, “Master, we do not know where you are going; how can we know the way?” Jesus said to him, I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, then you will also know my Father. From now on you do know him and have seen him.” Philip said to him, “Master, show us the Father, and that will be enough for us.”

Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you for so long a time and you still do not know me, Philip? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I speak to you I do not speak on my own. The Father who dwells in me is doing his works. Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me, or else, believe because of the works themselves. Amen, amen, I say to you, whoever believes in me will do the works that I do, and will do greater ones than these, because I am going to the Father.”

Reflection
Last week, the Fourth Sunday of Easter, we heard a passage from John in which Jesus declares, “I am...” both “the gate” and “the Good Shepherd.” In Greek, the phrase is, Ego eimi; “I am” in English. At various points in the Fourth Gospel, Jesus announces, Ego eimi, “the bread of life,” “the light of the world,” and “the vine” to our branches. Each of these constructions employs the same pattern; Ego eimi (I am) is followed by an image meant to communicate a particular truth about the nature of Jesus. By referring to himself as “the Good Shepherd,” Jesus wishes to convey a radical intimacy among his flock and an unparalleled familiarity with each individual. The ascription to Jesus the qualities of a shepherd is a vivid analogy--God himself become human and caring for each of his creatures with a personal, palpable touch.

This week, we hear Jesus again use the Ego eimi structure, this time articulating that he is, “the way,” “the truth,” and “the life.” The Greek word here used for “way” is hodos, which, like its English equivalent, possesses numerous connotations. The original meaning of the term is “path” or “road,” as when you might ask someone if she knows the way to East Lansing or the best way to get to Cedar Point. But, as in our modern usage, hodos took on the meaning of a manner of doing things. For example, “Her way of doing things is very different from her predecessor’s,” or “The best way to lose weight is by eating a balanced diet and exercising regularly.”

Jesus, a master of metaphor, undoubtedly played upon the various layers of meaning in this word, hodos, to make his point. When he begins this exchange, he talks about dwelling places in a house--clearly a physical location--and then indicates that he will come back for the disciples, who will be able to follow, because they know “the way.” But the disciples protest that, because they do not know where this house is (physically located), they could not possibly know the way. To which Jesus responds that HE is the way. But surely Jesus does not mean that he is a physical path, a stretch of highway that leads to this house... so he must be using the same word in a slightly different way (manner) now.

It would appear that Jesus now employs that same word, Hodos, in the sense of “way of life,” or “way of doing things.” As such, Jesus is articulating that the path to His Father’s House (i.e. Heaven) is precisely to live one’s life in the same manner that Jesus lived his. That is, in order to reach Heaven, we must literally be Jesus to one another. Previous prophets, and indeed, those from other traditions such as Confucious and Buddha, had acted as conduits for a code of behavior, teachers who sought to share a particular way of living that would lead to flourishing. Moses had brought the people Israel a set of guidelines, i.e. the Commandments, by which they might attain happiness. But Jesus does not rely solely on teaching an external set of guidelines or abstract ethical principles; rather, he told his followers that he HIMSELF was the way to live, and that they must therefore BE JESUS to one another.

Therefore, the way we are to be a follower of Christ is not to examine merely the words of Jesus and ask, “What did he say we should do in situation X?” but rather to explore the very life of Jesus and understand the way he lived his life. It is in walking this path, that is, living this way, that we will arrive at the place Jesus has prepared for us in His Father’s House. And what does this path look like? What does it mean to live according to “the Way?” What would it look like to BE Christ to one another? In order to answer that, we need to familiarize ourselves with the life of Jesus. To inhabit his experiences and assimilate his way of being.

Jesus grew up obedient to his parents and deferential to authority. But he also diverged from the typical life path of those around him when he gave up what seemed like the obvious choice for his occupation, i.e. carpentry, since his father had been a carpenter, in order to pursue the unique vocation he understood God to have called him to. Surely this took discernment and an openness to God’s plan for his life, even if it was one he himself may not have chosen. Too, it took trust in God that the plan would work out--we see at times in Jesus’ life, most notably during the Agony in the Garden, that even Jesus struggled with the hardships and burdens that accompanied his vocation.

Also in reading the Gospels, we see how Jesus treated others. We see how he reached out to those on the margins--women, the poor, the sick, the sinners--and how he strove to reintegrate them into the community. We see too how he interacted with the religious authorities of the day, challenging them to examine their own hypocrisy and self-righteousness, even when speaking that truth might result in negative repercussions for himself. Moreover, we see that, in his attempt to heal those who suffered from some physical or psychological ailment, his focus was not on what sin caused their affliction, but on how his own gifts might be used to bring healing and restore fullness of health to the person.

We see, finally, that his unqualified selflessness led him to accept the ultimate punishment--death on a cross--if it meant that we might be saved. It is the archetype of self-sacrifice, the paradigm of love for neighbor. Thus while it is unlikely we will ever find ourselves persecuted to the point of martyrdom for our faith or our friends, it demands of us a rare and potent form of unconditional love for other that we might be willing to give of ourselves, even when it will cost us a great deal.

Each of these examples of the hodos, the way, that Jesus lived, that we are called to, have contemporary equivalents. Ours may not be the vocation to cure blindness or drive out demons, but it is unquestionably our call to help bring healing to those who suffer. It may be to be provide a sympathetic ear to a sibling or friend as s/he goes through a particularly rough breakup. It may be to cancel a weekend vacation so that we can go home and spend time with a parent who is battling cancer. Recognizing our call to heal, to live “the way” Jesus did in that sense, does not require that we stop what we are doing an register for the MCATS or forsake our Engineering PhD in favor of a Nursing program. It entails being attentive to the people in our lives who are in need of some form of healing, and being willing to use our own gifts and invest of our own time, in whatever way we can, knowing that, ultimately, it is God who heals, and we who act as instruments of that healing, the same way that Jesus did.

“The way” Jesus lived his life was to forgive his best friend, Peter, when Peter betrayed him. It was to insist that everyone, even adulterers and tax collectors, was loved by God and invited to be part of the people of God, not simply those who already were living a life of righteousness. It was to trust, absolutely, that God’s plan--illogical as it sounded (to have to die in order to bring about eternal life)--would work out. That way of living--forgiving those who hurt us, reaching out to those who are not one of us, and trusting in a plan that makes no sense to us--is the vocation of a Christian. Living that way is every bit as challenging in the 21st Century as it was in the 1st, but it is also every bit as guaranteed to lead us to Eternal Life.

Questions for Reflection
1) Jesus says that HE, and presumably He alone, is “the Way” to Eternal Life, but what about other “ways” of being in relationship with God, e.g. Judaism, Islam, Hinduism? Are these ways simply wrong? (The way that it would be going “the wrong way” to Cedar Point if one hopped on 94 West towards Chicago) Or is it merely that they are not the BEST way to get there (as though one took a less direct route, but still headed in the general direction of Sandusky)?

2) Which specific stories (e.g. the conversation with the woman at the well; the healing of the Centurion’s Servant, etc.) stand out to you as epitomizing certain aspects about the way Jesus lived his life? What do you understand about how Jesus lived his life from this story, and what does it mean for you to be called to live YOUR life in that way?

3) Are there any particular dimensions of the way that Jesus lived his life that you struggle to emulate? Which ways that Jesus lived do you find easiest to live out yourself? Which are the hardest?

15 May 2011 [Cycle A]

May 15, 2011 - Fourth Sunday of Easter

Reading 1 - Acts 2:14a, 36-41

Then Peter stood up with the Eleven, raised his voice, and proclaimed: “Let the whole house of Israel know for certain that God has made both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified.” Now when they heard this, they were cut to the heart, and they asked Peter and the other apostles, “What are we to do, my brothers?”

Peter said to them, “Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins; and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. For the promise is made to you and to your children and to all those far off, whomever the Lord our God will call.” He testified with many other arguments, and was exhorting them, “Save yourselves from this corrupt generation.” Those who accepted his message were baptized, and about three thousand persons were added that day.

Responsorial Psalm - Ps 23: 1-3a, 3b4, 5, 6
R. (1) The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.
The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. In verdant pastures he gives me repose;
beside restful waters he leads me; he refreshes my soul.
R. The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.
He guides me in right paths for his name’s sake. Even though I walk in the dark valley
I fear no evil; for you are at my side. With your rod and your staff that give me courage.
R. The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.
You spread the table before me in the sight of my foes;
you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
R. The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.
Only goodness and kindness follow me all the days of my life;
and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD for years to come.
R. The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.

Reading 2 - 1 Peter 2:20b-25
Beloved: If you are patient when you suffer for doing what is good, this is a grace before God.
For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example that you should follow in his footsteps. He committed no sin, and no deceit was found in his mouth. When he was insulted, he returned no insult; when he suffered, he did not threaten;
instead, he handed himself over to the one who judges justly. He himself bore our sins in his body upon the cross, so that, free from sin, we might live for righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed. For you had gone astray like sheep, but you have now returned to the shepherd and guardian of your souls.

Gospel - John 10:1-10
Jesus said: “Amen, amen, I say to you, whoever does not enter a sheepfold through the gate
but climbs over elsewhere is a thief and a robber. But whoever enters through the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens it for him, and the sheep hear his voice, as the shepherd calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has driven out all his own, he walks ahead of them, and the sheep follow him, because they recognize his voice.
But they will not follow a stranger; they will run away from him, because they do not recognize the voice of strangers.”

Although Jesus used this figure of speech, the Pharisees did not realize what he was trying to tell them. So Jesus said again, “Amen, amen, I say to you, I am the gate for the sheep. All who came before me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the gate.
Whoever enters through me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. A thief comes only to steal and slaughter and destroy; I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly.”

Reflection

According to St. Thomas Aquinas, the brilliant 13th Century theologian, the human soul can be divided into three parts:

(1) The intellect

(2) The emotions (or “passions”)

(3) The will

The intellect and the emotions seem pretty straightforward--the intellect is the part of me that I am talking about when I say that I think, or know, or understand. The emotions are what I mean when I say, “I feel.” My intellect apprehends a piece of information, e.g. that the there has been a very great natural disaster in Haiti that has left millions of people without food and shelter, and I feel an emotional response to this cognitive comprehension. The intellect, colloquially referred to as “my head” or “my brain,” knows something, and my emotional soul, commonly referred to as, “my heart,” feels a corresponding emotional reaction to this knowledge.
So what is the will, exactly? According to Aquinas, it is the part of me that decides to do something about this knowledge. It is the capacity to choose, to act. I hear that there has been a disaster in Haiti, and so I know that the people there are suffering. This suffering affects me, and so I feel as though an action on my part is required. I choose to pick up my cell phone and donate $10 to the American Red Cross by way of text message. I willed to do that.
It is not automatic; there are plenty of instances of having knowledge that ought to compel us to action that do not therefore do so. “I know that I should quit smoking.” “I know that I should eat more vegetables.” “I know that driving over the speed limit dramatically increases the possibility that I will wind up in an accident.” And yet, many of these bits of knowledge fail to translate into any sort of change in my behavior. Why? Because affirming something intellectually as true and acknowledging something as being objectively “good” does not necessarily entail willing ourselves to address it. There has to be a powerful desire to act that wells up within us. Comprehension, by itself, isn’t enough.

Today’s Gospel passage is part of the well-known sermon delivered by Jesus in which he refers to himself as “The Good Shepherd.” But Biblical Scholar Jerome Neyrey suggests that a better translation would be, “The Noble Shepherd.” What makes the Shepherd, Jesus, noble, is that he is willing to go above and beyond the requirements of his duty, even to the point of death. In Greek literature, the word used here as “nobility,” indicated a very specific sort of virtue, i.e. the trait possessed by those few whose commitment to a task might best be described the word “heroic.”

Think of the fireman who rushes into a burning building, even after it has been deemed structurally unsafe to do so. Or the soldier who runs towards the gunfire, in order to grab a wounded friend and throw him over his shoulder. It is not merely that these individuals are “good,” in the sense that, they are “good at their job,” or, “they do their job [of soldier/fireman] very well.” Rather, it is is that their execution of the job is heroic--it goes above and beyond what the role requires. “Heroic” virtue has long been associated with military bravery, and the sacrifice of one’s own life that others may live is usually held up as the paragon of valor. It is this sort of uncommon, heroic, selfless act that earned ancient Greeks the title, “noble,” and it is precisely this same word that the evangelist John uses to describe Jesus’ manner of being a Shepherd.

What makes the self-sacrificing soldier--or Jesus as Shepherd--qualify for such high esteem is that his action is purely voluntary. He chooses to do it freely, without hope for personal gain. (In fact, oftentimes certain that it will lead to his own great personal loss.) It is an act of the will, and it is the will that is so very integral to leading a Christ-like life. Jesus talks constantly about what is required of his followers, and the common theme is that action is required. It is not enough to know that an injustice exists; we must actively commit ourselves to combating that injustice, even if it is at great personal cost.

As a Christian, we should hold it as no great accomplishment to have a piece of knowledge. Plenty of people know that there are millions of people in developing countries with insufficient access to clean drinking water; or that there are children right here in our own country who lack basic health services and educational opportunities. Until our will becomes involved--until we choose to take action--we are not yet living out our vocation as being Christ to others.

The story of Peter in John’s Gospel depicts this evolution. Shortly after the “Good Shepherd” sermon, Jesus predicts his Passion, to which Peter announces that he would die for Jesus. Of course, we see that, when the moment arrives, Peter denies Jesus. Intellectually, he KNOWS what he is supposed to do, and yet his will fails to move him to action, because he fears the consequences. He is like the other shepherds Jesus references, who are merely hired hands, who are simply doing what they have been paid to do, but who would not risk their own well-being for the sheep. It is not until after the Resurrection, when Jesus returns to the disciples, and Jesus three times asks Peter if Peter loves him, that we see Jesus prepared to pass on his role as “Shepherd.” Once he is convinced that Peter really does will to follow Jesus, even to death, Jesus entrusts Peter with the role of being a “noble shepherd” as he had been. In that same exchange, Jesus informs Peter that he will lose his life as a result of it, but this time, Peter does not waver.

In our own lives, we are called to be Christ to one another... that is what being a Christian is about. Part of that role entails emulating Jesus as “Good/Noble Shepherd.” And what this means is that we will be asked to align our will towards a type of action that is aimed at the well-being of others, even if it requires sacrifice on our end. If we wish to be “noble” as Jesus was, if we wish to be worthy of delegation as Peter became, we will have to demonstrate that we are up to the task of choosing to life this sort of life. There are a great many things that we KNOW our faith demands of us, with respect to the needs of the world. And we may even feel bad about our inaction to this point. But until we will ourselves into changing these realities, we will continue to fail to be the disciples Jesus calls us to be. Our hope should come in the form of Peter--who, like us, struggled at times to will himself into doing what was hard. But Peter was offered redemption, and he was the first person Jesus entrusted with care of the flock, once he was gone.

8 May 2011 - 3rd Sunday of Easter [Cycle A]

May 8, 2011 — 3rd Sunday of Easter

First Reading – Acts 2: 14, 22-33
Then Peter stood up with the Eleven, raised his voice, and proclaimed: “You who are Jews, indeed all of you staying in Jerusalem. Let this be known to you, and listen to my words.You who are Israelites, hear these words. Jesus the Nazarene was a man commended to you by God with mighty deeds, wonders, and signs, which God worked through him in your midst, as you yourselves know. This man, delivered up by the set plan and foreknowledge of God, you killed, using lawless men to crucify him. But God raised him up, releasing him from the throes of death, because it was impossible for him to be held by it. For David says of him: I saw the Lord ever before me, with him at my right hand I shall not be disturbed. Therefore my heart has been glad and my tongue has exulted; my flesh, too, will dwell in hope, because you will not abandon my soul to the netherworld, nor will you suffer your holy one to see corruption. You have made known to me the paths of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence.

“My brothers, one can confidently say to you about the patriarch David that he died and was buried, and his tomb is in our midst to this day. But since he was a prophet and knew that God had sworn an oath to him that he would set one of his descendants upon his throne, he foresaw and spoke of the resurrection of the Christ, that neither was he abandoned to the netherworld nor did his flesh see corruption. God raised this Jesus; of this we are all witnesses. Exalted at the right hand of God, he received the promise of the Holy Spirit from the Father and poured him forth, as you see and hear.”

Responsorial Psalm - Psalm 118
R. (11a) Lord, you will show us the path of life.
Keep me, O God, for in you I take refuge; I say to the LORD, “My Lord are you.”
O LORD, my allotted portion and my cup, you it is who hold fast my lot.
R. Lord, you will show us the path of life.
I bless the LORD who counsels me; even in the night my heart exhorts me.
I set the LORD ever before me; with him at my right hand I shall not be disturbed.
R. Lord, you will show us the path of life.
Therefore my heart is glad and my soul rejoices, my body, too, abides in confidence;
because you will not abandon my soul to the netherworld, nor will you suffer your faithful one to undergo corruption.
R. Lord, you will show us the path of life.
You will show me the path to life, abounding joy in your presence, the delights at your right hand forever.
R. Lord, you will show us the path of life.

Second Reading—1 Peter 1: 17-19
Beloved: If you invoke as Father him who judges impartially according to each one’s works, conduct yourselves with reverence during the time of your sojourning, realizing that you were ransomed from your futile conduct, handed on by your ancestors, not with perishable things like silver or gold but with the precious blood of Christ as of a spotless unblemished lamb. He was known before the foundation of the world but revealed in the final time for you, who through him believe in God who raised him from the dead and gave him glory, so that your faith and hope are in God.

Gospel – Luke 24: 13-25
That very day, the first day of the week, two of Jesus’ disciples were going to a village seven miles from Jerusalem called Emmaus, and they were conversing about all the things that had occurred. And it happened that while they were conversing and debating, Jesus himself drew near and walked with them, but their eyes were prevented from recognizing him.
He asked them, “What are you discussing as you walk along?” They stopped, looking downcast. One of them, named Cleopas, said to him in reply, “Are you the only visitor to Jerusalem who does not know of the things that have taken place there in these days?” And he replied to them, “What sort of things?”

They said to him, “The things that happened to Jesus the Nazarene, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, how our chief priests and rulers both handed him over to a sentence of death and crucified him. But we were hoping that he would be the one to redeem Israel; and besides all this, it is now the third day since this took place. Some women from our group, however, have astounded us: they were at the tomb early in the morning and did not find his body; they came back and reported that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who announced that he was alive. Then some of those with us went to the tomb and found things just as the women had described, but him they did not see.”

And he said to them, “Oh, how foolish you are! How slow of heart to believe all that the prophets spoke! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory?” Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them what referred to him in all the Scriptures. As they approached the village to which they were going, he gave the impression that he was going on farther. But they urged him, “Stay with us, for it is nearly evening and the day is almost over.” So he went in to stay with them. And it happened that, while he was with them at table, he took bread, said the blessing, broke it, and gave it to them. With that their eyes were opened and they recognized him, but he vanished from their sight. Then they said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he spoke to us on the way and opened the Scriptures to us?”

So they set out at once and returned to Jerusalem where they found gathered together the eleven and those with them who were saying, “The Lord has truly been raised and has appeared to Simon!” Then the two recounted what had taken place on the way and how he was made known to them in the breaking of bread.

Reflection
That the author describes these two men as “disciples of Jesus,” indicates that they had been part of the inner cadre of followers during Jesus’ public ministry, a fact confirmed at the end of the story when we see them running to tell the 11 apostles of their encounter. At this time in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus had not yet appeared to the disciples—earlier that morning, Mary, Peter, and some others had witnessed the empty tomb, but no sign of the risen Lord—so the core nucleus of apostles and friends was hiding behind locked door for fear of persecution. For the two disciples to know where to find the apostles emphasizes just how close they must have been with Jesus—and makes all the more astounding the fact that they failed to perceive him standing right in front of them. So why didn’t they recognize him?

The disciples are engaged in the very same activity with which many of us humans respond to tragedy—they are trying to make sense of it all. The author of the story tells us that they are “conversing and debating about all the things that had occurred.” No doubt these two, like many who had come to follow Jesus, had left behind family, friends, possibly even their jobs, to become part of this movement, a movement that just days before had seen their leader
carried triumphantly into the capital city, Jerusalem. But within a matter of hours, the cause to which they had devoted the past months and years of their lives came crashing down, its spirit utterly sapped and its leadership cowering in a hidden room for fear of further violence.

One can easily imagine the topics of their discussion: How had Jesus gone from being carried triumphantly into the capital city, to being put to death by public demand a matter of days later? And what did Jesus’ death mean for the movement? His preaching had focused on the message, i.e. how we were to live in relationship with God and others—was that message rendered invalid by the grim reality of the Cross? ( One thinks of the sort of conversations undoubtedly held by followers of Socrates or Dr. Martin Luther King in the days after each’s untimely passing, and how they must have sought to make sense of event and figure out what to do next.)

Into this intellectual analysis of tragedy, Jesus inserts himself in a radical, immanent way, but it is this very academic exercise that prevents the disciples from realizing that he is literally present before their eyes. So focused were the disciples on their own pre-conception of the Messiah, (“We had hoped…”) that they were incapable of recognizing the actual Messiah standing next to them. They were so consumed by the calamity of Calvary that they could not begin to make sense of the promise of the empty tomb.

Their plight is ours. Too often in life, we allow ourselves to become enveloped by the pain of a given tragedy—the loss of a loved one; the end of a long-term relationship; the failure to get a hoped-for job—that we blind ourselves to the reality of God present in front of us. At times, we become utterly absorbed by the apparent absence of God—we focus myopically on how badly it hurts to suffer a broken heart or to experience rejection from a job, and we simply push aside the possibility that it is part of God’s plan. Indeed, the disciples on the road to Emmaus depict an archetype of our human designs and need for things to make sense; they KNEW what it meant for Jesus to be Messiah, and so when it turned out that the facts no longer fit their understanding, they were left struggling to find a logical explanation. We may think we KNOW what it means for a given situation to “work out” for the best—getting this particular job; marrying this particular person; etc. and when it does not, we can become so caught up in an intellectual analysis of “what went wrong” that we close ourselves off to the possibility that something very important went RIGHT.

It can be tempting to over-analyze a situation—What went wrong? What could we have done to prevent this pain?—to get stuck in our own heads, and in so doing, to prevent ourselves from recognizing God’s ability to transform tragedy into triumph. The message of Easter is that the Resurrection, not the Cross, was the point. But in order to see this, our eyes must be open.

Reflection Questions

1. Have you ever experienced a tragedy so profound that you struggled to see any good in it? Do you still feel that way? Where do you think God was/is at work in that experience?

2. When a tragedy occurs, be it a personal loss or a wide-spread disaster (e.g. Hurricane Katrina, the earthquake in Japan, etc.), do you try to make sense of the occurrence? Do you think this helps? Do you trust that these things are part of God’s plan? Why/not?

3. What sorts of impediments do you occasionally struggle with in seeing where God is at work in your life? Do you feel like you are open to things working out?