Sheep may safely graze and pasture / in a watchful Shepherd's sight. / Those who rule with wisdom guiding / Bring to hearts a peace abiding / Bless a land with joy made bright.
Let me repeat that. This is not a retirement community.
The last words of our Lord while He was still personally
present on this earth is “Go.” Go into
the whole world and proclaim the Gospel to every creature.
In the Catholic faith, there is no such thing as “retirement.”
No matter how old you are, you have a mission. You must go. You have work to
do!
“But people don’t listen to me” you say. Do you recall St. Francis? When people
didn’t listen to St. Francis of Assisi, he preached to the animals—proclaiming the
Gospel to every creature.
Have you gone so far as to proclaim the Gospel to every
creature?
So people don’t listen to you. So what? And why don’t
they listen? Is it because you are… old? So what if you are old! It says: “[the
apostles] went forth and preached everywhere , while the Lord worked with them.”
The Lord worked with them! Do not be
afraid because you are old! Do not be discouraged when no one listens to you.
The Lord is working with you! Trust in this!
Go, the Lord
says. This is not simply a command. This is a blessing.
There was a time when “going” was not a blessing, when it
was part of a curse. You remember the story of Adam and Eve. After they had
separated themselves from God, they must go. And they go without any purpose—into
a life with little hope. Their going was a separation.
Into this Bad News, Jesus approaches with Good News. And
He invites people to come to Him to hear it. And then, after they have heard
it, He sends them out—sending them just as the Father sent Him. What a
blessing: to share in the same mission as the Son!
Go forth! You are sent! Go forth, the Mass is ended…. to
which we reply “Thanks be to God.” We recognize what a
blessing it is to have such a mission—to proclaim Good News in a world full of
Bad News! To share the mission of the Son. To be so united to His work.
You are sent. The Greek word is “apostelein” from which
we get the word “Apostle” which means “one who is sent.” You are sent to
proclaim. “Evangelion” is the Greek word—it means message, Good News, from
which we get the word Evangelist.
St. Mark, whose feast day we celebrate today, gave his
life to proclaim the Good News. He publicly bore testimony to the fact that
Jesus Christ is real and that this reality changes lives. Jesus changes
everything.
St. Mark did not keep this in a bottle. After he
encountered Jesus, Mark went out. He evangelized.
We need more Catholics willing to take this mission
seriously: to go out, to be unafraid, to stand up and to proclaim—even when no
one will listen. Even when the audience is.... young.
We need to announce Gospel to the young. And this is not simply my
job. This is yourjob. YOU are to go out into the world—this means going out to
both the old and the young. But go out to the young!
And when you go out to the young, you will realize that
you need to get to know them if you are going to evangelize to them. They want
to be known! And when you get to know them, you will find that one of the
biggest obstacles for them to overcome is the belief that “what you see is what
you get.” They live in a visible world that has no depth; they do not believe
in an invisible world beneath the surface. And so they are concerned with the
new and the beautiful and the surface appearance.
And while that may help them with some things—like being
attracted to some of the beautiful things that the Catholic Church can provide—it
also hinders them from seeing other things: like the wisdom that invisibly
dwells within The Old. They will reject you because you are old…. unless you
show them that there is a beautiful depth to you. That you have heeded Jesus’
command to “Come” and that you have encountered Him and that He has changed
you and given a depth to you that you can now bring forth and announce.
If you show them that there is a beautiful depth, a
wellspring of wisdom beneath your surface, then they will start to see other
invisible things: like the fact that they have a soul; like the fact that Jesus really is present in the Eucharist; and that the kingdom of heaven is really “at hand.”
This is part of what the recent Successors of St. Peter
have begged us to begin: namely, to take up the New Evangelization.
You are part of this. This isn’t simply a mission for the priest to take up. Nor is this something for the energetic and the youthful.
No, this is your mission. Because the Church is not a retirement community! You
must go out! You have a mission still. We must not rest in this. Go!
Ten years ago this week, I was in Rome. Pope St. John
Paul II had died and I had the chance to be in St. Peter’s Square and attend
his funeral—yes, I can say that I have definitely attended the funeral of a
saint! As I attended his funeral, I couldn’t help but recall that this same
Pope had died on the vigil of the very solemnity he had extended to the entire
Church: this solemnity of Divine Mercy Sunday. At his funeral, I recalled how, in that same St. Peter’s Square, in the very year of
my birth, the future saint was shot. I remembered how, at the first chance he had, he forgave that
man who had shot him.
I remember Pope St. John Paul II and remember a man of mercy.
Lost in the Church
of Mercy
Before I attended Pope John Paul’s funeral, there was a
time that I had never been to St. Peter’s. I was a graduate student studying
abroad with seven others from Franciscan University. On one of our first
afternoons in Rome, we decided to go to St. Peter’s and attend the 5pm Mass.
While we were walking to the Basilica, I became distracted
by something beautiful—because, you know, Rome—and I didn’t tell the group and
they too were looking at everything beautiful… And, well, in the blink of an
eye, I had lost my friends. Lost in the crowd. Lost down a random—beautiful,
but random—street in Rome.
And I didn't have a map.
So I’m lost. And so are my friends. And I don’t know if
they are looking for me. And if they are looking for me—oh, I am so sorry if they
are looking for me! Because I’m the one who got lost. And if they are looking
for me, then they aren’t going to make it to Holy Mass on time. And …
So you see how my thoughts went. I felt pretty bad about
this.
I eventually found my way to St. Peter’s. And when I
arrived, there was one thing on my mind: find my friends. I wasn’t looking at
the beautiful, 17th Century, Bernini colonnade—those two motherly
arms reaching out to receive her lost sons and daughters. No. Nor did I notice
the well-known façade of St. Peter’s. When I entered into the basilica, I didn’t
notice the Pieta—that this-is-the-quintessential-Roman-sculpture of
Michelangelo depicting the Mother of Mercy, Mary, holding her Son after His
Crucifixion. No, I totally blew past that.
I didn’t notice the beautiful ceiling or the beautiful
baldacchino. I didn’t pay attention to the Chair of St. Peter or the stained-glass
window of the Holy Spirit above it. No, all that I was looking for was what I
had lost.
I sat down in a pew at the back chapel of the basilica
and went to Holy Mass. I hope they made it, I prayed. I hope they forgive me. I
hope we find each other soon…
And then,… they found me. It was the end of Mass. They
found me at Holy Communion as I went up to receive. And they came over to me. They
were happy to see me. “Isn’t this wonderful,” they were saying, “we’re in Rome!”
The only thing on my mind was to say that I was sorry.
And they looked at me with mercy. “It’s ok,” one of them
said, “we’re all here.”
At that point, I looked. I finally looked around me. And
I saw the beauty of the basilica. It was like I had been blindfolded and placed
by the high altar—only now the blindfold was lifted and I saw the glory around
me for the first time. I saw the gold and the light and the angels and ... Within me, there was something that said "This is what Mercy looks like." I wasn't just seeing the basilica as though mercy looked like this; I was seeing the inner reality of mercy in all its light and beauty.
Mercy is beautiful.
And, wonderfully, the mercy of others opened me up to see not only the beauty of mercy, but also the beauty of life around
me too. Once forgiven, I could appreciate the beauty around me-- the beauty of the basilica and the beauty of the God that
dwells therein. The beautiful, merciful God.
Mercy is amazing like that.
From the Mercy of
God to Belief
How many times I have received the mercy of God through
others! Countless times from my mom. Or my college professor who was more than
generous with letting me turn in a paper well past its due date. Or the priest—that
priest who heard everything horrible and dark in my life and who nevertheless comforted
me, telling me it was going to be ok and that I wasn’t lost anymore, but that I
was found! I go back to that first-in-a-long-time confession and remember those
words: “I absolve you.” I look back on that moment in gratitude, knowing that
it’s all forgiven.
Yes, I have seen the face of mercy!
This was the dilemma of Thomas: he hadn't see the face of mercy. Thomas was lost in doubt.
Thomas had not yet had an encounter with mercy. “Unless I [touch Him],” he
says, “I will not believe.”
These are the words of our culture. Our culture longs to
touch and to see God. And until it does, it will never believe.
Jesus comes and allows Thomas to touch—to touch the very
side where the lance had pierced the Sacred Heart. Thomas touches the very font
of mercy. We see the image of Divine Mercy—Thomas placed his hand there.
As a result, Thomas was no longer lost in doubt, but
washed in mercy. It was by the mercy of God that Thomas came to believe!
So too, it will be by the mercy of God that our culture
will come to believe! It will be by the mercy of God that our fallen away
brothers and sisters will return to the faith! It will be by the mercy of God
that all of us will find ourselves standing in the great, heavenly Jerusalem,
standing with our friends and family who rejoice with us that we are no longer
lost, but found!
"Isn't this wonderful, we're in heaven ...."
The Face of Mercy
Just yesterday, Pope Francis decreed a Jubilee Year—a Year
of Mercy. The document that he wrote
to declare this Jubilee Year (found here)
is entitled “Misericordiae Vultus”—the Face of Mercy.
Isn’t that beautiful? The face of mercy! To think: mercy
has a face! Mercy is personal! Mercy… looks upon us and says, “Come, Thomas.
Come and touch my side. Do not be unbelieving, but believe!” It’s like Jesus is
answering Andrew again when Andrew says, “Master, where are you staying?” and
Jesus says, “Come and see!” Come and see the face of mercy!
Have you seen the face of mercy? Have you looked upon it?
He may have come to you as my friends did in Rome, or
through Pope St. John Paul II, or through my mom, or my college professor, or
the priest in the confessional.
I hope all of us have seen the face of mercy—because it
is beautiful.
And I believe because of it.
You are My
Witnesses
I realize that once Thomas touched mercy, once Thomas
knew what mercy was and he believed, Thomas would have to be the first to be merciful. He
could not just be a beneficiary of mercy; he would have to be a witness of mercy too.
It is not enough, brothers and sisters, to simply go to
confession today and say that we’re ok now. No, if we have seen the face of
mercy, we too must take on His very serene and kindly countenance. You must
become a witness of mercy. Your face must reveal mercy!
We must be the last ones to gossip and the first to
forgive. We must be the last ones to judge and the first to welcome. We must be
the last ones to point out where people are going wrong and the first to point
out where there is so much more! We must humbly welcome, put on smiles instead of sullen faces-- the joy of mercy!-- and tell anyone who is lost, "It's going to be ok. We're all here!"
If the world doubts the faith, it is likely because it
hasn’t seen the face of mercy. Have mercy on us, O Lord, if we have been the ones responsible for that!
The Year of Mercy
The Jubilee Year of Mercy will begin on December 8th and will continue until the feast of Christ the King in November
of 2016. A Jubilee Year is not an ordinary thing—the last Jubilee took place at the
millennium. It is a time of special grace, of prayer, of reconciliation, of
pilgrimage, and of contemplation.
Let us take a few moments during this Easter Season to
read the document that the Pope has written.
Let us reflect on how the Lord has been merciful to us
and the times that others have extended mercy to us and to others.
Let us then reflect on whether we have been merciful.
Let us seek the Lord’s mercy—especially in confession.
Let us pray that we might be more merciful to others.
And let us pray for those who do not know God’s mercy or
the mercy of others—let us pray for those who doubt whether mercy is real...
May today be the day that we all touch—and look upon the Face
of Mercy!
The entry from my blog after the experience of mercy at St. Peter's.
Once again, a
very happy Easter to you and your families. And a special welcome to any who
are visiting us today.
So, here is my
homily that I had written. *I show my homily* But before Mass I was talking to
my lector and I realize that I need to put this aside and just speak to you
from my heart. *At this point, I tucked my notes under the book of the gospels.
The rest of what you read here is the best that I can remember of what I said.*
Rediscovering Good Friday
For the past nine
months, I have had the pleasure of being assigned here to St. Joe’s. And, when I
arrived, Monsignor—in his wisdom—made me the director of the RCIA program. RCIA
is for those who are wanting to learn more about the Catholic faith and may possibly
join the Church. Now, for any other parish, this might be a small undertaking
of walking with five or six people. For us here at the Catholic Deluxe Parish,
we had thirty. Yes, last night at the Easter Vigil, we welcomed home thirty
people to the Catholic faith. Praise God!
Last night, as we
welcomed them home, I realized something about Easter Sunday and that’s what I
want to share with you today.
For nine months,
I had given so much to this program—to put together lectures, to stay on top of
deadlines and questions, to pray. I was assisted by so many people too. But
there were so many sacrifices. Having to give up free moments here, sacrificing
some time with friends there. For nine months, I was laboring for this group.
And something I
did not expect started to happen.
I
started to fall in love with them.
The thirty who were strangers when I met them, people who were foreign to me and perhaps even weary of me at first—these thirty people, I realized, were good, beautiful, and genuine people truly seeking to learn more, truly being called to find their home.
I began to really love them. I wanted them
to find their home. And it didn’t matter to me what sacrifices I had to make or
what sufferings I would have to endure. I loved them!
This helped me to
understand Good Friday. (Which I wrote about here)
In the past, I
mostly saw Good Friday as a day focusing upon pain and death and suffering—all
for our sins. The emphasis of the day being on our sins. What I had missed was
the obvious, something that I realized now: Good Friday is a day about Love.
I loved my RCIA
people. And because I loved them, I willingly suffered for them. Because Jesus
loves us, He willingly suffered for us. This is what love does.
Rediscovering Easter Sunday
Last night, I was
standing at the entry to the sanctuary and I began to read the names of those
who were about to enter the Catholic Church. And as I began to read their
names, I began to think about how far they had come and how we had all suffered
together and about how much I truly loved them. And I had to fight back the
tears.
Here they were,
coming into the Church. The suffering was over. But my love continued. I still
loved them! Mothers you know this by way of your experience: for nine months in
the womb you carry your child and you love your child. And after you give birth
to your child, you still love her, right? You never stop loving your child,
right?
Good Friday is
the labor of Jesus’ love. But His love still continues, right? So, after Good
Friday, how is He going to show us that His love is forever?
How is He going
to show that His love is forever?
By destroying the
one thing that keeps us thinking that nothing is forever. He had to destroy
death. That’s what happens at Easter.
Easter, then, isn’t
about the end of the Cross. Easter isn’t about replacing Good Friday. Easter is about Love showing us that
this Good Friday Love is forever! It is forever because His Love is
stronger than death itself!
Don’t you see?
Jesus’ love wasn’t
just a flash in the pan that lasted for only three hours on some random Friday
afternoon. Jesus’ love wasn’t just yesterday. He love isn’t just today. Jesus’
love is forever! Yesterday and today and forever!
He loves you
forever! – not only until death do us part, but forever!
Rediscovering the Tomb: The End and the Beginning of the World
Look at Mary
Magdalene. She is there in the early morning “while it was still dark.” This is
about four in the morning. (I googled this). Who goes to a tomb at four in the
morning?! Nobody does that. Unless… unless it was love.
I totally get
Mary Magdalene now. She went to the tomb because she was convinced that Love
was forever. She was in disbelief at what had happened to Love on that Cross. Love, she thought, Love couldn’t be killed—not like this, not by a Cross, not at all.
And so she goes to the tomb with a heart with so much sorrow, with a heart like
so many of us that pours forth its words: “Love, Love… Please… don’t let this
be the end of love!”
Don’t let this be the end of Love!
And when she
approaches the tomb, she notices that the door to it has been opened. She is
startled by this. Something is amiss. And so she runs to Peter and the apostles
and tells them that the stone was rolled back, that the door was open instead
of sealed.
And it was
supposed to be sealed, right? I mean, as much as I’m sure she wanted to believe
that Love is forever, there was some realism in her that believes—just as we
all do—that death is the great equalizer, the great destroyer. Nothing survives
death. So, Peter and John, come to the tomb because something is not right
here! Have we been wrong about death? Is there something… beyond it?
So they run to
the tomb. And John goes in once Peter has arrived. And the tomb is empty.
But something
happens in that tomb: the Gospel says that John “saw and believed.”
He saw and believed.
I think of Jesus’
first invitation when Andrew asked Him, “Lord, where are you staying?” Jesus
responded, saying: “Come and see.”
If you have ever
seen or read “Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe,” you know about
how Lucy and Peter and the others stumble upon an innocuous wardrobe—like a
kind of closet. They open the door and enter into it. But it’s unlike anything
they could have possibly ever imagined. The closet opens up to a whole new
world of beauty and adventure and everything beyond our most satisfying of
dreams.
That’s the tomb.
The stone of the
tomb is the door of the entry to eternal life and the new world. I imagine
Peter and John walking in and it’s just a dark tomb, but interiorly—here, in
their heart—something is opening up, new life is coming forward. Something
powerful. Something extraordinary. Something… definitive.
The Challenge of Easter
This is the challenge
of Easter. You see, Good Friday challenges our sensibilities in saying that God
Loves us unto death. Easter Sunday comforts us by saying that God’s love is
yesterday, today, and forever. That His love is definitive—more definitive than
death.
The challenge of
Easter, then, is this tomb. This tomb is the doorway. It is the open door, the
open invitation, the open challenge to us from God who says, “And you? Is your
love for me… definitive? Are you willing to die for it? To enter the tomb of definitive, committed love for
me?”
And that scares
me. I’m scared of the tomb. It appears dark. And what if I enter in and am
disappointed? What if I enter in and the door swings shut and locks and I’m
stuck? What if what is definitive… is not in my favor?
I am doubting.
The Lord invites
us: Come and see. Enter into a love that is definitive. Give your life for this
love.
I can tell you
from personal experience that while entry is the ultimate in adventure and the
summation of every test of intestinal fortitude, there is a whole new beautiful
amazing world in this choice of definitive love. I was not always a priest. I
was once a bad Catholic. I had great doubts as I studied at Washington University. And I came
to the realization that there was one doubt that I never doubted: my own doubt!
As silly as it
sounds, sometimes we have to doubt our doubt. Sometimes we have to choose to
have something more definitive than our own doubt. And this meant love. To love
with all my mind, heart, and strength. And to love the greatest of all loves:
Love Himself.
I entered the
tomb. Entry was something as simple and yet terrifyingly difficult as getting
on my knees one night and praying to God, admitting that I was not and that He
is and that, without Him, I was nothing; I was dead.
Never in my
wildest dreams did I ever think that I would be here with you, here at
#CatholicHappyLand, the largest parish in the State of Missouri! (And I’m an
introvert!) But it is beautiful here—and not just here, but the Catholic faith.
And how suffering has meaning. And how so many people enter into my life and I’m
getting to go deeper in love again and again. What a beautiful, wonderful, amazing life!
And I thought that being religious meant death!
This is the
challenge of Easter and its beautiful promise.
Let Us Go Together!
Notice: John and Peter
entered the tomb together. Let us do the same. Let us go together! You are not alone! If you have fallen
away from the faith, we are here to help you come back! And I know it can be
difficult to return and to find out how to do things or to admit certain things
or to struggle with some aspects of being part of a community—but let us enter
this together! You are not alone!
If you doubt,
come! Come let us see together! If you are grieving, if you are hurting, if you
are with Mary Magdalene, weeping about the world and about love—let us go
together and see! See, love is yesterday, today, and forever! There is new life
won for us on Good Friday and it is open now to us today!
I don’t know
about you, but I need this love. I am not a good person without Him. My love is
so yesterday and so barely today. I want a love that is forever. I want to love
forever. I don’t want my love to be a flash-in-the-pan, here today but gone
next Sunday.
What do you want?
Do you want eternal life? Do you want Love that is forever?
Then let us go
together! To Jesus, our Risen Lord: Love! Yesterday, Today, and Forever!
He was arrested,
imprisoned, scourged, mocked, beaten, nailed to the cross, and mocked again.
Jesus longed for
this. That might sound odd, but yes, He longed for this moment. Many months ago, while He was with his
disciples, Jesus took them aside and said to them: “I have a baptism [a cross]
with which I must be baptized and how I
long for it to be accomplished!” (Lk 12:50). He had been aching for this
moment for so long.
And why?
Because He longed
for all people to know the love He has for them. To publicly profess that He
was head-over-heels in love with us—with a love that bears all things, believes
all things, hopes all things, endures all things—with a love which never fails—even
here, even now. To have us know beyond any doubt that He loves us with a love
stronger than death!
This day isn’t
simply about our sins. It’s about a foolishly-in-love God publicly professing
His love to His beloved. That’s why we call this Friday “Good.”
His Love
Many saints have
said that if Jesus had to die a thousand times to show us his love, He would
have loved us enough to do so. St. Alphonsus Ligouri noted that had it been
necessary for Jesus to hang upon the tree until the day of Judgment—and just
for you—he would have done it. Because Jesus loves you more than He suffers!
He didn’t have to
do it this way, to suffer and die. But how else was He to show you His total
love? Total love is not content with giving flowers or rings or extra moments
of fleeting time. Love, when it wants to make itself known, looks for the best
way to show itself to the beloved. And the best way is that total gift of self
which gives everything … and keeps nothing for Himself.
This is what
Passion means. Passion comes from the Latin, “patior,” which means “I suffer.”
We get words like patience and compassionate from this. Those who love, love
with passion, patience, … suffering.
No greater love
does a man have than this, than to lay down his life for his friends.
His Forgiveness
But here’s the
scandal: Jesus loves His enemies.
Let us consider that for a moment.
How many had
spoken falsehood in the presence of the Truth? How many had pulled on the beard
of their Savior? How many had profaned His Holy Name and spat in the divine
face of Man? How many had consented to the crucifixion of God?
And for all this,
our Lord still says, “Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.”
Father, forgive
them.
But, they do know
what they are doing! They know that they are killing this man!
No they don't. They have no idea that the One they are killing is Love Himself. The very incarnate, beautiful, embodiment
of Love itself.
“Father, forgive
them.”
This is a prayer
that extends to this very day. A prayer that extends to the Middle East as we
see ISIS killing Christians like Paul did so long ago. Jesus turns and prays, “Father,
forgive them.” As we saw the events of Ferguson play out this past year, Jesus
continued to intercede by praying “Father, forgive them.” As human dignity
continues to be undermined by the way people and institutions treat the
vulnerable, especially the unborn, Jesus looks to the heavens and cries out—not
muttering under His breath—but by crying out prays: “Father, forgive them!”
Jesus, of all
people, knows the depth of the harm done: for “whatever you do to the least of
these, you do unto me.” Each day, with each new wound to humanity, Jesus Christ
Himself is crucified.
And yet He prays,
“Father, forgive them.”
Do you see His
love?
His Line in the Sand
Consider the man
next to Jesus, the “good thief.” The
thief was justly condemned for he had done much evil in his life. But in that
last hour of his life, he asks Jesus to simply remember him. "Love.... love, remember me."
What does Jesus
say? Does Jesus brush him aside? Does Jesus hold resentment in his heart?
No. Jesus tells
the man, “Amen, today you will be with me in paradise!”
An entire life of sin
and death overthrown by just one moment of God’s forgiveness! Can you imagine?
God’s love is a
love that would allow any repentant sinner to enter into Paradise. Consider
that. Any. repentant. sinner. Even the one who hammered the nails into Jesus’
feet. Can you imagine Him as numbered among the saints?
Jesus’
forgiveness is more powerful than any of our sins! More powerful than your sins
and mine. More powerful than all of our sins here in this church! More powerful
than all of the sins of humanity—not only since Jesus’ coming, but since the
beginning of time!
Yes, there is
hope for all of us! Yes, all of us! Even at the Eleventh Hour! Because, you see, as Jesus embraced His
cross, He saw you and He saw me. He saw our sins. Every last one of them. And
He embraced the Cross anyway. He saw our lukewarmness. And He embraced the
Cross anyway. He saw our meanness and resentment and doubt and indifference—and
He embraced the Cross anyway.
Because what does
Love want? Us. And because Love wants us, He draws a line in the sand between
us and evil. This is what forgiveness does. Forgiveness draws a line in the sand
and says to evil: “You shall go no further. You have no power over a heart of
love.”
It is a line that
we need help drawing so that we might love our enemies and pray for those who hurt
us. Father, help us to forgive as you forgive us!
He Makes All Things New
Let us consider
one more person at the crucifixion: Mary.
At the
crucifixion, Love would meet Love’s Mother. In the movie, “The Passion of the
Christ,” this moment is captured as Jesus falls. Mary sees
her son fall, just as she had seen Him fall when He was but a small boy. And
just like when He was small, Mary in this moment runs to Him and embraces Him
and says to Him, “I am here.”
Jesus, in
response, says, “See, I make all things new.”
I make all things
new…
This is what love
does. This is what forgiveness does. It makes all things new. Evil is conquered
by love. Sin is conquered by forgiveness. Death is conquered by suffering passion.
The old order is passing away. And Jesus is making all things new.
Today is the day
of that new beginning. Today is a day of love. Today is the day of hope for any
lost sinner. Today is the day of salvation. Today is Good Friday.