My Deliverer - Wednesday, 5th Week of Lent

 "My deliverer... you saved me..."

These words from the entrance antiphon set the theme for the Holy Mass today: Jesus is our deliverer. He is the Son of Man in the first reading who saves Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego from the eternal fires. Jesus is the one that we praise in the Psalm. And it is Jesus who is the Truth who "will set us free."

The word "Deliverer" comes from the Latin "de" and "liberare," which mean, literally, "to set free." Jesus is our Deliverer; He sets us free. But from what? 

Jesus says, "Anyone who sins is a slave to sin." This is the first thing. Jesus liberates us from sin. "I come to set the prisoners free," we hear elsewhere in Scripture. We are prisoners when we sin. In the beautiful sacrament of Confession, we are set free from sin. Praise God!

We are also enslaved and imprisoned by the reality of death. This is the second thing from which Jesus liberates us. We often dwell in fear of death. Of losing things, of losing people, of not being ready. 

How does Jesus liberate us from death? He enters into death itself, nailing it to a tree. When the Father resurrects Jesus from the dead, the Father shows us that death no longer has power of Jesus -- and, by extension, us. Because Jesus is raised from the dead, He will never die again. He doesn't have to worry about dying anymore or losing anything. "Death no longer has power over him." This is why Paul says in his Letter to the Romans: "O Death, where is your victory? Death, where is your sting?" Jesus has been delivered from death -- and we who believe in Him have also been set free.

The saints in heaven -- they are free. They don't have to worry about death or sin or loss anymore. They live forever.

But here's the thing. Jesus doesn't simply want to free us "after death." He comes to free us now.

In the Our Father when we pray: "Deliver us from evil." And in the Mass, the priest answers "Deliver us from every evil and grant us peace in our days." Peace here in our days on earth!

Jesus doesn't want us to have to worry about death. He doesn't want us to worry about what we will lose and so on. He wants us to dwell in His peace. So, we can give all of this over to Him. This is actually a mark of sanctity: to realize that we have already died in Jesus Christ. You have been freed from the fear of death. Be at peace!

Of course, many of us fear death not simply because of what we may lose, but because of what comes after. "Will I make it to heaven?" we say. We are afraid of judgment. And the reason why we are afraid of that is because we do sin. ... But when I am free from sin, I am also free from judgment! ... If I trust Jesus, I realize that He is both my God and my friend. He wants me in heaven with Him forever. He loves me. If I love Him and listen to Him in this life and avoid wickedness that hurts Him -- if I treat Him as my friend, then when I come to my judgment it will be my Friend who judges me. And that won't be a judgment at all! It will be a homecoming! ... I will finally get to be with the One whom I have loved so much!

Death, then, isn't something to dread, but is something I long to pass through so that I may finally be with Him for whom my heart longs.

Therefore, we are free. Just as the Psalm says elsewhere, and at funerals: "... even though I walk in the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil.... for you, Jesus, are at my side..."

The Power - Tuesday, 5th Week of Lent

 We have an absolutely stunning crucifix here at Incarnate Word in Chesterfield. It is larger than life size and it is so easy to just sit in the pew and gaze upon it. It is truly a great blessing to our parish.

We hear about the power of the crucifix in our readings today. Jesus says that, "When the Son of Man is lifted up, He will draw all men to Himself." Jesus means, when He is crucified-- lifted up on the Cross-- then "you will believe that I AM" (which is the shorthand for the Divine Name of God). And then in the first reading, the power of the crucifix is prefigured in the time of Moses by the healing power given to all who look upon the bronze (and dead) serpent on the pole. All who gaze were healed of the serpents' attacks.

In my own life as a priest, I have seen the power of the crucifix. I am very blessed and honored to have been at the bedside of many as they pass from this world to the next. 

On one particular occasion, I was invited to a person's house to anoint a man who was dying. I pulled up and was "greeted" by a younger man on the porch. He didn't really greet me; it was more of a grunt. He pointed to the front door -- and did not open it. So I knocked and was "greeted" by another person, a younger woman. Another grunt, beckoning me, almost begrudingly, into the living room. You'll find more cheer in a graveyard, I thought to myself. A third and final person was in the living room, the hospice nurse, and she was kind and had a good spirit. She was the one who had called me, she said, and led me to the bedroom in back where she would leave me with "Bob" who needed to be anointed.

When I first saw Bob, I was amazed that he was rather young. Maybe 60.  He was lying down in bed with his arms resting on top of the covers. He had a bunch of tattoos. I could tell by them and his grizzled beard that he had seen a few things and had been hardened in life. I came to his bedside and told him, "Bob, I am here to anoint you and to give you God's forgiveness. ... Are you sorry for anything?" He looked at me and turned his head aside. "Do you regret anything, Bob?" I asked.

"I regret nothing," he growled.

The voice gave me a little chill, not only because of the sheer refusal regarding repentance, but also because it was a growl like those who had greeted me on my arrival. I sensed there was ... evil... in the room.

I gave Bob some reasons for repentance and all fell on deaf ears. So I told him that I would pray the Rosary at his bedside and then I would leave. So I started praying the Rosary-- the Sorrowful Mysteries. I eventually reached the Fifth Sorrowful Mystery: the Crucifixion of our Lord. As I was praying this, there was placed on my heart (by our Blessed Mother, I am sure) the need to show Bob the crucifix. So, I finished the Rosary and, when I finished, I said to Bob, "Bob, I want you to look at something."

He turned his head towards me. And I held out the Rosary's crucifix. It was a rather large crucifix for a Rosary -- he could clearly see it. "Bob," I said. "This is Jesus. He is the Messiah. And He died for you. You are about to meet Him. Tell Him what is in your heart."

Bob gazed upon the crucifix. Like the Israelites in the desert, he gazed. And a tear began to form in his eyes, and a tear went down his cheek.

Bob made a good confession that day and he died receiving the Sacraments and the mercy of God. 

I am convinced that it was the power of the crucifix that healed him -- that drove out evil that day from his soul and from his house. On the way out, the young man at the porch said, "Thank you, Father."

Dear friends, do not underestimate the power of the crucifix. If you have one on a wall in your home, good! Have one in your bedroom, too. If you have a sick person in your family, whether at home or a hospital, make sure they have a crucifix they can look upon and from which they can draw strength. And don't simply let the crucifix be a picture that disappears on your wall -- take it down once in a while and hold it in your hand and pray and gaze .... it will bring the healing of your soul!

The Innocent - Monday, 5th Week of Lent

 The elders convinced the crowd that she had committed adultery. And, as such, she deserved death. In the case of Susanna (from the book of Daniel, our first reading), Susanna was innocent. And it was Daniel who advocated for her. He was the only one that spoke up and said, "Wait! Wait, why are we believing these snakes? Let's hear the full story before coming to conclusions." And in hearing the full story, the crowd realized that the elders were in fact snakes and should have never been believed in the first place. Susanna-- the innocent-- was spared.

 In the Gospel, we see elders and a crowd coming to Jesus with a women whom (they claim) was "caught in the very act of adultery." 

Strangely, we believe them.

Why do we believe them?

All this time, we have found nothing that really advocates for believing these elders, but here we are, like the people in the case of Susanna, blindly following the crowd and presuming this woman has committed adultery. Perhaps we need to learn something from the forbearance of Daniel and ask questions before coming to conclusions.

For His part, Jesus doesn't ask questions -- He already knows what has happened. He is God. And so He says, "You who have not sinned may cast the first stone." Brilliant line. And notice: He doesn't even engage in the trial of finding out whether or not the woman is guilty. In a way, He is not worried about guilt -- everyone is guilty. That's why He is there. He is the Messiah who comes not for the righteous but the sinner. And that's everyone -- at least, anyone who has any speck of self-reflection.

That said, this passage gives me pause when it comes to conclusions about by neighbor. Maybe they are guilty; maybe they are not. But really that is not my concern. My concern is whether I am right with God. And that also means that He has dealt very mercifully with me; He has advocated for me; and He has had a lot of forbearance with me. Maybe I should do the same when it comes to others. Maybe I should not join the emotionalism, gossip, and judgmentalism of the mob and their desire to throw stones.

Maybe I should just sit with Jesus and draw in the sand, taking in the time which that gives me to reflect, pray, and give another the possibility of being innocent.

The Life - Homily for the 5th Sunday of Lent

 Lazarus was dead. “Dead as a doornail,” one could say. So dead that, when Jesus told the people to open the tomb, the women were worried there would be a stench. And then the miracle happens: Lazarus, who had been dead for four days—four days!—comes out of the tomb, bound hand and foot in the burial cloths. None of us could do this miracle. Humans cannot bring people who have been dead for four days back to life. Lazarus was now alive – because Jesus is God.

 And that’s one of the reasons why Jesus delays His arrival to Bethany. “I am glad for you that I wasn’t there.” Why? So that this miracle could be done and so boost their faith. “That you may see the glory of God and believe.”

 We are afraid of death, aren’t we? That’s one of the lessons we have learned over the past three years. But for some people, the fear of change is even greater.

 After Lazarus is raised, and after the feelings of the spectacular have died down, some of the Pharisees begin to plot to put Lazarus to death – not just Jesus, but Lazarus too. That’s amazing to me: how hard does a person’s heart have to be to not only refuse to accept an undeniable miracle that they could actually touch and see, but then also to want to destroy it because it doesn’t conform with their normal way of doing things. It is truly astounding, the fear that some of the Pharisees had when it came to changing their lives.

 But that’s the purpose of Lent, isn’t it? To have our lives changed. Hear, then, the words of Jesus again when He says: 

Do not be afraid of the one who can kill the body. Be afraid of the one who, after killing the body, can send the soul into Gehenna.

 That is to say: Yes, I understand you have many fears, death and change being a couple of them. But the greatest fear you should have should be about hell – about the death of your soul.

 You see, whenever Jesus does a miracle, there is often a spiritual lesson that is attached. So, last week, Jesus healed the blind man, but it also revealed the spiritual reality that people were blind to Jesus the Messiah. Here, in the raising of Lazarus from the dead, Jesus is also revealing the reality that many of the people were spiritually dead. And He has come to not simply give physical life to the body, but eternal life to the soul.

 Hence He says, “I am the resurrection and the life.”

 You and I are going to die. And we don’t like to admit that fact. But the deeper reality is that, even though we will die in body, we must do everything in our power to make sure we don’t die in soul.

 How could we die in soul?

 Just like physical illness, we can have spiritual illnesses. We can call these “sin.” An illness that can kill you, whether of the body or soul, would be called a “mortal illness.” “Mortal” meaning deadly – like mortal combat or a mortal wound. Such things could bring about death. A mortal illness of the soul is what we call “mortal sin.”

 Now I’m not going to get into what constitutes mortal sin, but rather I just want to point out that it does exist. It is real. And it shouldn’t be a surprise to us. After all, in our games like soccer or hockey there are yellow cards and red cards, minor penalties and game misconducts – offenses that earn us a caution and offenses that get us kicked out of the game. Even in civil society, we have misdemeanors and speeding tickets, but we also have felonies and death penalties. Embracing mortal spiritual illnesses does have consequences.

 Like a stench. And death. And hell. That is what hell is: dying from that illness.

 We can grow “nose blind” to a certain smell, like whatever has died in our car. But a good friend may sit in the passenger seat and go “Phew! What died in here?” You may not notice anymore, but your friend does. So too in our culture and in our lives, we may have gotten used to certain sins and bad habits, but God notices. He isn’t nose blind. Sin smells. And it smells like death.

 And that’s no surprise since sin is opposite to God. To choose sin is to choose not-God; to choose death over the One who is Life. The Resurrection and the Life in fact.

 I say all of this not to condemn in any way, but to tell you that Jesus comes to us, comes to the tomb of our sin and says, “Lazarus! Come out!” Jesus comes not to condemn us, but to bring us new life and the freedom that comes from that.

 Have you ever wondered why confessionals feel so uncomfortable? They are often dark, dank, and have a certain smell to them. It is uncomfortable to confess one’s sins and to admit having embraced the ways of death. But then—then when you emerge from the confessional: you feel the cool air again and you drink in the fresh air and the feeling of being free again. The confessional is the tomb from which Jesus’ forgiveness calls us forth into new life.

 I love it when a person comes in and says, “Father, it’s been… years… since my last confession.” I know, you probably think that is odd that I love that. But I love that. Because that person has been carrying a weight on their shoulder for years. Shame and guilt and sadness and anxiety – carrying that for years – and in this moment I get to remove that weight. I get to cut loose the shackles and set them free. And I get to see that moment. That beautiful moment when a soul is brought back to life and restored to the innocence that they had – no matter how horrible the crime, no matter who deep the spiritual death – I get to see that soul restored to life and restored to the innocence they had at their baptism day.

 This is why I have heard it said (I do forget which saint said it), that it is more miraculous for the soul receiving the new life in confession than the life that was given to Lazarus that day in the tomb.

 I believe that. Lazarus would eventually die again. But if his soul was healthy—that is, free from the illness of sin—Lazarus would live forever in heaven. His bodily resurrection is a foretaste of that. It is also a prefigurement of Jesus’ Resurrection, too – a resurrection that happened after He entered the tomb.

 Which is all to say, not only does Jesus call us out of the tomb – He enters into the tomb. He enters into the stench and the death of our spiritual illness and offers us healing; a new life; true resurrection.

 That is the joy of Easter. And that is the joy that is offered to you in the confessional. Do go this week. Especially if it feels like has been forever. And bring a family member or a friend. We want new life and we want it for everyone. +

The Word - Thursday, 4th Week of Lent

 Let’s continue Jesus’ train of thought from the end of the Gospel.

 He says: “But if you do not believe [Moses’] writings, how will you believe my words?” … For when Moses wrote, he wasn’t just writing – it was I who was speaking to you. I am the eternal Word of the Father. Moses’ writings and I are one.

 When we talk about Jesus, we recall here – at Incarnate Word parish of all places! – that Jesus is the Word made flesh. All of human history was a preparation for the Incarnation. The Old Testament was integral to that preparation. Before Jesus became flesh, He prepared the world by speaking to her – through the prophets, through His kings, through miracles – and yes, in the Sacred Scriptures themselves.

 Interestingly, many people downplay the value of the Old Testament. “Because it’s Old,” they say, or because they think it is “replaced” by Jesus’ New Testament teachings. But that is the ancient heresy of Marcionism (not Martianism—that’s from Mars… I think). Marcionism dismisses the Old Testament and sees it as a stumbling block to the Real Jesus.

 We can tend towards that, I think. After all, how many good Catholics believe that there is a kind of “wedge” between the Ten Commandments and Jesus? I mean, how many people, when they hear the Commandments, hear them through the speakers of an angry father or an angry neighbor: don’t do that, you pesky kids! Stay off my lawn! … And don’t steal anything! The Ten Commandments easily become something that we think inhibits our freedoms and happiness.

 How many people have heard the Ten Commandments through the voice of Jesus?

Listen to some of the Commandments as though Jesus were saying them to you right now:

My dear friend, I am giving you so much and I will continue to provide for you. Do not steal. Stealing only makes you more enslaved and worried about things. … Do not have other idols. They will only disappoint you and leave you orphaned. I am with you; I am listening to you. And you are important to me … Do not gossip and bear false witness—and do not envy your neighbor’s spouse and stuff. Such things divide your heart and deepen the hurt and loneliness you feel. I am here for you; let me heal your heart; let me give you life.

 We can tend to be like the Pharisees in the Gospel today who don’t see Jesus’ teachings and Moses’ writings as coming from the same place: from the eternal word of the Father. Jesus says to us:  “If you do not believe Moses’ writings, how will you believe my words?” 

 So many people relay to me that they don’t hear Jesus when they pray. I tell you: when you read Sacred Scripture, you are hearing the voice of Jesus. It is HE who speaks to you. Soak in Scripture, my friends, and you will be soaking not only in Law and in Love, but in Jesus Himself -- the Word dwelling among us.

The Father - Wednesday, 4th Week of Lent

 If I were to ask you to tell me the Top Ten Things Jesus Proclaims in the Gospels, what would your Top Ten list be? Well, we would probably say … 

Jesus told us to love each other and our enemies; He came to bring mercy; Jesus told us to be especially mindful of the poor and needy …  We could talk about how established His Church and also instituted a ministerial priesthood. Certainly, we would mention the forgiveness of sins… And His miracles and healings and His resurrection.

 And that would be a pretty good start to our Top Ten list.

 But something that is absolutely essential to the Gospel, something that hardly anyone ever thinks about, is this:

             Jesus comes to reveal the Father.

 My friends, this is so essential. Without Jesus, we do not know the Father. And we certainly do not know that the Father is “compassionate and loving in all His ways.” Without Jesus, God could simply be a “force” like in Star Wars. And not necessarily a force for good, either. Without Jesus, we would simply know God as “the god,” as Allah – but not as Abba.

 How could we say “Our Father” without Jesus having taught us? (And yet, we still “dare to say” … our Father).

 Philip, one of the Apostles, in a moment of great honesty, asks Jesus, “Master, show us the Father and that will be enough for us.”

 Jesus responds: “Philip, have a been with you so long and yet you do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.”

 Do you realize what that means?!? When we look upon Jesus, we are also looking upon the Father! Jesus makes visible what has been otherwise invisible; Jesus reveals the Unseen God. And not only that, but Jesus shows us that we can have a relationship with this God – a relationship so intimate and beautiful that we can call Him the Good Father.

 And we know that the Father is good, because who is it that gives Jesus life after the Crucifixion? Who is the cause of the Resurrection? Who provides us Easter and has always had it in His mind and divine plan to do so? The Father.

 In Lent, Jesus is begging us to see the Father – through Jesus. Jesus, on the Cross, makes visible the invisible heart of the Father that longs for us, is in agony for us.

 “Do not be amazed at this,” Jesus says, “I do not seek my own will, but the will of the one who sent me.” That is the Father. “And the Father and I are one.”