St. Ann Catholic Church | St. Louis, MO

An elderly, bearded gentleman, with a benevolent, yet powerful face and flowing beard.  A Jewish looking man hanging on the cross, with body bruised, but spirit somehow intact and triumphant.  A nebulous spirit kind of dove image.  I suspect that for many of us, those images are among our first images when we try to visualize the Trinity – God as Father, Son and Spirit.  I came across a different set of words as I was studying the changes for the priest in the New Edition of the Roman Missal.  They are taken directly from St. Paul.

Grace.          Love.            Communion.

The GRACE of the Lord Jesus Christ, the LOVE of God and the COMMUNION of the Holy Spirit be with all of you. (Communion replaces the word “Fellowship” in our current liturgy.)  If you notice, those are all words that describe relationships.  They describe what happens between people and among people and for people as they interact.

These word of St. Paul are captured in the meaning of an ancient term used by the Greek Fathers when they were trying to hammer out a theology of the Trinity – Perichoresis.  That Greek word literally means a ‘going around’, and suggests a vigorous dance-like movement – each person circling, interweaving, whirling in vibrant interaction with the others.  The point of this dance of love, however, is not just the enjoyment of the divine dancers only.  The dance is an open circle that invites all onto the dance floor drawing them right into the midst of the energetic flow of divine delight.

I was at a wedding reception of a Catholic to a Greek Orthodox some years ago, and I saw this in action.  The DJ started playing a certain song, and there was this massive RUSH to the edge of the dance floor.  Then the bride and groom joined hands, and started this side by side dance – a few steps to the left, a few steps to the right, a little Zorba the Greek dip, with a few more moves thrown in, and then two more people join the line.  Repeat, the steps and then four people.  Then eight.  And more.  And more.  The bride and groom and slowly leading this line into a smaller and smaller circle.  And soon, the entire floor is wrapped up in this intricate, weaving, dance, as the music builds and the energy builds and the people weave tighter and tighter.  Eventually, the entire reception is now wrapped around the couple as the dance and sing and enjoy one another in the amazing dance of love and friendship and COMMUNION.  It is thegrace of the couple, the love they have exchanged and shared with each other, that forms the communion of love at the heart of this most amazing dance.

That image, of the bride and groom, at the center of this amazing energy and movement, is my favorite image of the Trinity.  I fear too often, in my prayer, and in my thinking about God as Father, Son and Spirit, I miss the energy and the movement that is the nature of God.  Static images are not what the Greek Fathers thought about the Trinity, nor what Paul suggests in those words which are so often the invitation to the beginning of our Mass – grace, love and communion.  They invite us, like people at a Greek wedding reception, into a dance of delight and relationship with the one who is at the heart of it all.

Paul suggests some practical steps for the dance.  Rejoice.  Mend you ways.  Encourage one another.  Seek agreement.  Live in peace.  Greet one another with the holy kiss.  In these ways, we help one another onto the dance floor – circling ever closer and closer to each other and to our God who is at the center of it and is the source of it all.  In that way, we become one with the very source of grace and love and communion.

May the GRACE of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the LOVE of God and the COMMUNION of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.  Amen. Amen

Continue Reading

What is the Holy Spirit trying to make know through you?

If you have ever traveled to a distant country, you probably have seen this interchange happen.  Someone is asking directions or ordering at a restaurant.  When it becomes obvious that the waiter they are speaking to does not understand English – what do they do?  They speak LOUDER and S-L-O-W-E-R.  As if that will make a difference…  It is kind of laughable, isn’t it?  Yet I suspect that a lot of us have been guilty of that very thing.

I was at the ordination of three men to the Jesuit priesthood this morning.  One of the men was from Vietnam.  So, as a part of the ordination mass, the second reading was proclaimed in Vietnamese.  And the communion meditation song was also in Vietnamese.  And though the lector read wonderfully, I knew that no matter how LOUDLY or S-L-O-W-L-Y she read or they cantor sang, I would never understand.  Fortunately for me, and all those who understand only English, they provided a translation in the program.

All of which got me to thinking about one of the roles of the Holy Spirit, as we heard in the first reading/acts of the apostles.  The Spirit reverses the sin of BABEL and the confusion of languages.  “Each one heard them speaking in their own language,” we’re told.  It did not take written translations on a page or someone speaking LOUDLY and S L O W L Y, but rather is the Holy Spirit’s gift to humanity.  The Spirit helps us sort out, from all the babble and all the noise – a narrative that makes sense.  One of the Spirit’s functions, as it were, is to help us hear clearly.

And what is Luke careful to tell us that Spirit helped people to hear that first Pentecost?  “Yet we hear them speaking in our own tongues of the mighty acts of God…”  The Spirit’s role is to help us tune into the sound of the voice of God – calling and inviting and challenging us to be a part of THE MISSION for the salvation of the world.  And he used the 11 who had gathered, and the other followers to bring that about.  For what Pentecost tells us is that is still speaking, still trying to let himself be heard from the babble of all the noise that it out there.

So what is the HS trying to make understood BY YOU?  If the Spirit is using us, as he used those early disciples to reveal the mighty deeds of God, then within each of us is a gift, a voice, a note, a song – whatever image you want to use – that is given to us to make heard in the world.  What might that be?

• Perhaps it is to work with our youth – either as they prepare for confirmation next fall, or in our outreach to them as members of the community at large – that God wants to make known through you.
• Perhaps it is the call to make the social justice dimension of the gospel known by words and deeds here at St. Ann.  Then come to a meeting this Tuesday night at the rectory at 7 pm.   – consider this your invitation.  There will be at least three of us there…
• Maybe the Spirit is calling you to give a ride to a homebound person who can no longer drive.  Let Pat M. know your availability.
• Perhaps it is yours to organize groups of people for activities – as the Men’s club has begun doing with a few social events. But instead of social activities, the Spirit is calling you to organize for a specific need in the community – such as the community garden that Sue Reid is organizing on the lower field.  Listen for that invitation…

It was eye opening and ear opening to hear just one of those different languages this morning – and a reminder of the Spirit’s mission among us all.  Spend some time LISTENING this week -  Listening WITH THE HOLY SPIRIT and allowing God’s Spirit to sort through all the babble and the noise.  And then say, with the church, – Come Holy Spirit – fill my heart, kindle in me the fire of your love – so that THROUGH ME and IN YOU, we might renew the face of the earth…

Continue Reading

What is your favorite promise?

We make lots of promises as human beings.  Before a sports game, people promise to give their utmost effort for the success of the contest.  Sometimes parents will promise their children a trip to the ice cream parlor if they have been very good during the day.  When folks have fallen off the wagon, they promise our spouse or family members that they will not touch the bottle again.  A week ago, four men promised to serve the church faithfully as priests forever.  And it is hard to beat the promise that couples make when they vow their love: For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.

A promise is a pledge that we will be true to the words we have spoken.  It is an outward sign of the inward intention of the heart – to do something, give something, be something in the world for all to see.

Promises are meant to be things to hang on to when all else fails.  And promises are things that we hold ourselves true to, when our courage would be lacking and our spirit would back away.  What is YOUR favorite promise?

Jesus knows that his time is short.  So in that ‘final speech, recorded in both Acts and Matthew’s gospel, we hear three different promises, don’t we.

You will be receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you.

You will be my witnesses to the ends of the earth.

I am with you always, until the end of the age.

The first promise equips his disciples [and us] for what had to be a daunting mission – go make disciples of ALL nations.  To these fishermen whose furthest journey had been the 5 day walk to Jerusalem, the whole world was a bit daunting.  YOU WILL RECEIVE POWER…  “Oh, so it is not just US doing this.  The promise of the Father called the Holy Spirit – got it. Check.”

The second promise gives us our identity- that which we hold ourselves true to – to be his witnesses.  Two thousand years later, it is still the church’s identity – to let our lives be conformed to his.

And the third, which is my favorite promise, gives us comfort in the midst of our struggles.  I am with you always, till the end of the ages. I do not leave you orphaned or directionless or without recourse, abandoned upon the street.  My presence is found whenever you gather with fellow believers, whenever you call on my in prayer, whenever you celebrate around this altar – there am I with you.

There are lots of ways we can experience that presence.  But perhaps the most important thing about that final promise is the most important thing about wedding vows and ordination promises – that we simply believe them to be true.  One author described it as ‘living into grace’ – which means that we trust the promise is real and true and alive, and then act accordingly.

And if Jesus is always with me, then doesn’t that make a difference in the choices I make and the way I respect my body?  Doesn’t that call for moderation in drink and food, watching only shows and movies that are worthy of me, reading only things that build up the spirit?

And if Jesus is always with my brothers and sisters, then discrimination in all its forms has to go.  The randy jokes and cruel humor are out of place, and I have a mission to not rest until all my sisters and brothers, be they in Libya or Syria or the West Bank or East St. Louis share the dignity of the sons and daughters of God.

And if Jesus is here with us on this planet, then recycling becomes a part of my stewardship of this earth; working for sustainability becomes essential, and even the energy debate that was splayed across the front page of this mornings’ paper becomes the work that God has put before us to accomplish.

Promises are amazing things, especially when they come from God.  As we celebrate the Ascension of the Lord and prepare for the Feast of Pentecost, may we tune into those three promises of God in our living – you will have power, you will be witnesses and I will be with you…

And then, watch out, world…

Continue Reading

Are you ready for the Rapture?

Well, we’re still here…[Sunday masses…]

Harold Camping became famous for predicting that the rapture would come today.[yesterday]  We have until 6pm our time zone) before it is slated to happen here.  It is not the first time he has predicted this event.  Nor, I think, will it be the last time we hear about “the Rapture.”  It is an idea that has been around since about 1830.  It seems to have been invented by a British religious figure named John Nelson Darby, who claims God revealed it to him.  The Rapture is a scenario of events that are supposed to happen at the end of the world.  It goes like this:

At the end of the world, Jesus will come on the clouds of heaven and the righteous (the saints) will be raptured (caught up) into the air to be with Christ.  They will be separated from sinners who will remain on the earth to endure a period of great tribulation.  After this, Jesus will rule for 1000 years, and then the Parousia will come where Jesus comes at the end in judgment and will inaugurate the new heavens and a new earth…

Scripturally, people who believe in the Rapture will quote Thessalonians 4: 13-18 – which is really addressing a controversy in the early church.  Did those who died before Jesus returned have an advantage or disadvantage over those who did not?  Paul writes this in response:  For the Lord himself, with a cry of command, with the archangel’s call and with the sound of God’s trumpet, will descend from heaven, and the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up (raptured) in the clouds together with them to meet the Lord in the air; and so we will be with the Lord forever.  Therefore, encourage one another with these words.

There are a few things to say about this text from our Catholic perspective.  First, Paul is borrowing a pagan metaphor for death.  The pagans would speak of people being snatched away by death. That word snatched away is translated in our text as ‘caught up’.  Paul wants to tell us that we will indeed be snatched away, but not by death, but by our Lord Jesus, to join him and to welcome him in his return.

Secondly, in the ancient world, the ‘air’ was a scary place filled with unseen, hostile beings.  Being together with Christ in the air, meant that there was nothing to fear.  It was meant to be a comforting message.

Finally, the passage says nothing about being separated from others – (ie – sinners from the saints). The whole thrust is exactly the opposite.  It is about being together with the dead, all of us caught up in the power of Christ’s coming.

SO – the conclusion is clear: There is no support in this passage for a doctrine of the Rapture.  It would be a distortion of the biblical text. Nor is there a catholic doctrine on the existence of the rapture.

Is there something to be said for Harold Camping and his followers?  Actually, yes.  What he has captured and engendered in his followers is what we heard in John’s gospel today.  He has a real longing for going home to be with the Lord.   And a real belief that there are many mansions in the Father’s house – and that Jesus’ desire is that we come one day to be with him there.  I don’t know if I am nearly so eager for the end of time nor that mansion in heaven as he is.  I kind of like it here.  I like to quote my uncle Wally, whose chalice I use at each mass – “The good Lord knows that I want to meet him.  Just not yet.”   Mr. Camping’s call to be prepared for that day when the Lord calls us home is not necessarily a bad thing.  However, we need to heed the first words we heard in John’s gospel.  “Do not let your hearts be troubled.”  The day will come.  There is a place prepared for us.  Don’t worry about that.

Just be ready.  So if it does happen tonight at 6p – we’ll be ready.  Or tomorrow night at 6.  Or next week at 6.  Or whenever.  We follow the one who IS the way and truth and life.  And as long as our lives mirror his way and truth and life, then it doesn’t matter IF there is a rapture, or WHAT it might be or WHEN it comes.  We’ll be ready…

Continue Reading

When you imagine the Shepherd’s voice – what does it sound like?

You always knew when it was dinner at the Kempf house in the neighborhood. (cup hand to mouth as a ‘megaphone’) Buddy, Joey, Denny, Billy, Corky, Mary T… Repeated about 3 times. Usually we would be in the middle of some game – fuzz ball, football in the lot, Frisbee tag, you name it. As kids we learned pretty quick: If it was a brother or sister calling your name, you had an extra 5 minutes that you could finish the inning or the game. If it was MOM calling your name, you left, even if it was the middle of your at bat. When mom called your name, the time had come. It was just that simple.

I can never read this passage from John without that image coming to mind – of mom calling our names to dinner from the back porch of our house. The houses were close together, and the places that we played were almost always literally within earshot of home. The shout from the back door was how we communicated over the distance. And mom was not alone in that practice. Other parents would do the same. So you had to listen, even in the midst of the game, for the voice that might be calling YOUR name.

In retrospect, we always dropped everything and came home when mom called for two reasons. First, mom’s voice meant the food was ON THE TABLE – not just about to be on the table – and in the Kempf family, you didn’t want to miss that. But secondly, not only was it the summons to food you didn’t want to miss, but you had to come so you didn’t miss out on family time, so you didn’t miss the one time the entire family would be together that day- sharing in life and love. That is why, when mom called our names, we knew we had to drop everything – because around the dinner table was where our family was family at its best.

That is the truth that Jesus is trying to convey to the scribes and Pharisees – the religious leaders of his day. “I have come that you might have life and have it t more abundantly.” With an aching in his heart, Jesus sees good people, like you and I, trying to make their way in the midst of a world with all kinds of ‘voices’ – all kinds of ideas of what will work to help you get through. “Many people will call your name, will try to attract your attention. Thieves and Marauders! People who do NOT have your best interest at heart.. Do not follow them.” In his heart of hearts, he knows those paths will not work – because they won’t lead people to his Father, the source of life.

Using that comforting image that all in his society would know in their bones – the shepherd’s relation to his sheep – Jesus invites the leaders of his time – and US – to trust in him. And to believe that in him, we will find the path to life. Gatekeeper, good shepherd, the one who calls you by name – all are different descriptions of the same truth – we have a savior who has come that we might know his life and love flowing through our veins. So this week, do a little “listening” for that voice. And listen for it in two ‘arena’s – as Jesus tells us – the being led out and the being led back home.

• Where have you felt that pull, that leading out into the “mission fields” as a sign from an Episcopal church in Illinois tells you: You are now entering the mission fields. If being Catholic is all about sharing the love and life and faith that we know in our savior – then where are you being called to be the bearer of that love? Perhaps it is a letter to a relative who has been holding a grudge. Perhaps it is a Face Book search to connect with someone who has dropped off your radar. Maybe you hear it in ACA brochure – listing of the different charities – Criminal justice? Hmm… LISTEN for that call to GO OUT and serve.
• And where have you felt the pull to ‘go inward’ with Jesus. Perhaps it is a journey of healing over some decision made years ago that you need to reconcile. Perhaps it is to learn more about this Catholic faith that we share. Perhaps it is the call to linger in PRAYER over that morning cup of coffee or that evening bowl of ice cream. Listen for the call of the Shepherd to go IN to be with Him.

(Hold had to mouth as ‘megaphone’) Buddy, Joey, Denny, Billy, Corky, Mary T – it is time to come home. So too for us. HEAR this evening/morning –the shepherd calling YOUR NAME – not to the Kempf family table, but to this table of the Bread of life – so that you might have life and have it more abundantly…

To the First Communicants: Today is a pretty exciting day. Every other Sunday before this, you heard Jesus calling your family members and your friends to the table. NOW, he is calling you to the table! Casimir, Jacob, Max, Ferderica, Lucille, Christoff, Jack, Jacob, Ryan, Cloe. Dinner’s on the table. It is time for you to take and eat and take and drink. I hope today and all days, you will learn to recognize the voice of the Good Shepherd who calls YOU to the table of life… Close your eyes and listen… today and all days…

Continue Reading

What do you find worthy doing, regardless of how it turns out?

I hear a lot of expressions of hope around this time of year – at the Newman Center, at the parish and even in the scriptures these days. Some of them are around the future:

• “I hope my internship year goes well.”
• “I hope I can find a job teaching Spanish.”
• “I hope the weather will be good for the upcoming parish and school picnic.”

Some of them are around the present:

• “I hope the murder of Osama Bin Laden makes the world safer.”
• “I hope the Dinner Dance did well.” (It did!)
• “I hope this relationship continues to deepen.”

And finally, there is that intriguing yet sad line from today’s gospel:

• “We were hoping he was the one to redeem Israel.”

Hope gets a lot of press, doesn’t it? But I wonder if we often misuse the word. There is a fine line between hoping and wishing. And the difference, at least as I understand it, is all about the engagement level that those verbs convey. Wishing looks for something outside itself as the source of redemption. Hope nurtures and calls forth something within.

Vaclav Havel, the first president of the Czech Republic offered these reflections on hope, about three years before he became the president.

“Hope is a dimension of the soul, an orientation of the spirit. It is not the same thing as joy that things are going well, but rather an ability to work for something because it is good, not just because it stands a chance to succeed. Hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out…”

The two disciples are blindly fleeing Jerusalem because things did not turn out well, according to their wishes. They end up returning there because Jesus helps them to see a whole way of life that embodies hope. In recognizing Jesus in the breaking of the bread, they understand first the truth that Jesus has liberated them from sin and death. But more importantly, they realize they have to live in such a way that they risk their own bodies being broken and their blood poured out in love of others. To put it another way, they make the connection between Holy Thursday and Good Friday, the connection between the Eucharist and the Cross and finally the resurrection. This is what sets their hearts burning as they race back to Jerusalem – the hope that living for others is worth the doing regardless of how it turns out.

So the story of Emmaus becomes a description of the process of moving from wishing to hoping. In that gradual process of listening and speaking, of praying with and studying scripture, of walking with others on the road, – that daily perspective of taking, blessing, breaking and eating, and the invitation to the Lord to ‘stay with them” – the Jesus we thought we knew vanishes and the risen Christ remains.

This week, the story of the two disciples on the road holds out for us that amazing virtue of hope. I invite you to bring the sentiment of Vaclav Havel to prayer this week. You can ask it in two ways:

“Where do you find your heart burning, on fire with love, able to sacrifice and give?” That experience of a burning heart will point you to the source of hope.

Or: What do you find worthy of doing regardless of how it turns out?

Continue Reading

Have you ever shared your ‘scar’ stories with your kids/family?  (Or why did Jesus show the disciples his hands and side?)

It was a strange way to dispel anxiety and grief, wasn’t it?  “He showed them his hands and his side.” Given the horrible wounds Jesus has in both places, what was he getting at?  Aside from letting them know that this REALLY is him –the one they saw crucified on the cross – what does sharing his ‘scar story’ do?  Why does Jesus show the disciples his hands and his side?

Think of the context.  The apostles were hiding behind locked doors because they were afraid. If they were identified as followers of Jesus, they could share his same fate.  It was an understandable and prudent fear.  And as the gospel continues, even though most of them had seen our risen Lord, a week later they were still locked in that upper room still barricaded in.  Something has yet to happen inside of them despite seeing him.  They were still in that upper room – a bit trapped, a bit bound, a bit “un-free” – and Thomas the most un-free of any of them.  Into that “STUCK-NESS” – into the midst of their fears, Jesus breaks into their lives: not merely into the physical place in which they had taken refuge, but into the core of their hearts. He attempts to calm their fears with that simple act: He showed them his hands and side.

LOOK at these wounds, he invites.  See them for all their gory truth.  BUT KNOW THIS – they are not ultimate.  They do not have the last word.  Pain, suffering and loss, and the scars that they leave, need not be the last word for those who believe in the love of God. That is what Jesus wants his disciples to know.  ‘Your failures, your falls, and your brokenness – I know them more than most.  They are only the end of the story if you let them be that; if you let your wounds and failures drag you down.  But they don’t hold me back.  Nor will they you, if you let me live in you.’

All of us have experienced pain and suffering. We all have our ‘scar stories’.  If you touch my forehead right here (put hand on forehead above my nose) you’ll feel mine.  As a 3 ½ year old, I “knew” that if you fell and scraped your hands/arms, they would hurt for 2 weeks.  If you fell and hit your forehead, it would hurt for 10 minutes.  It made perfect sense to me to choose the ten minutes of pain over the two weeks of pain.  However most of our scars are a little more invisible.  All of us bear the wounds of failure, betrayal, deception, disappointment, and loss. Our hearts, our minds, our memories – our souls – have the scars to prove it. Out of fear of being hurt further, like the apostles, we sometimes lock ourselves away in some small emotional or spiritual corner of the world, living in fear of what other pain or disappointments life may bring in the days, months and years ahead. We withdraw from life: in effect, we die, with no hope of resurrection.

Jesus would have us know a different truth, wouldn’t he?  And those middle words in that first appearance narrative seal it: “Who’s sins you forgive are forgiven, but when you let them bind, when you let your scars and wounds hold you fast, you are held bound.”  You can live there, being bound, but that is not what Jesus wants for you.

This is why our Lord must have loved it when Thomas said to the community: “I’ll not believe” without entering the wounds.”  I need to see that there is life on the other side of the wounds – that they indeed have not stopped you from being the living one.  And from the exploring of those wounds a most amazing faith emerged: “My Lord and my God!”

On this Divine Mercy Sunday, the only truth our savior wants us to know is that we are always being set free.  We are always being forgiven.  We are always being shown a mercy that acknowledges our scars and failures, but that tells us not to live there.  The scars of our humanity are a part of our past and if we are honest, a part of our present. They need not, however, determine the course of our future.

This Sunday, bring your ‘scar stories’ – all of your failures and brokenness and woundedness with great confidence to the Lord.  And the one who shares his scar stories, who shows us his hands and side will tell you that his Father had the last word in his life. And if you let him, he will have the last word in yours!

Continue Reading

What makes your heart race?

Not long ago, I thought I saw – my dad!  Maybe it was the flannel shirt like he always wore, and that salt and pepper hair… Dad boxed in high school and his nose was crooked –just like the side profile of the man in front of me – it looked so much like him.  Dad died almost twenty years ago.  But for a fraction of a second, or a fraction of a fraction of a second, my heart raced.  Even after all those years, I thought it was him.   Until he turned completely toward me, and I realized that, sadly, no, it wasn’t him.  And I knew again the sadness of missing my dad, the pain of all of those who have loved and lost.  That must have been a tiny taste of the heartache those first disciples felt, gathered in their grief at the death of Jesus.  Could you imagine what that must have been like for them?

Let’s do that.  Imagine that you and I were part of the group who had been following him for three years now.  And that – in him – we felt something we never felt before.  When he spoke how he captured our hearts; when he stopped on the road for people nobody else ever would, when he laughed with abandon, or cried, cried right in front of us for the suffering of the world, when he held us, when we watched him pray…..  And now, oh, how we miss him…  How scared we are to try to do life without him, him, the one who made it worthwhile to get up in the morning….

And how alone it is now… Yes, we have each other, others who found this in him too.  But HE’S gone.  We watched him die.  He’s gone with a finality that only those who have tasted death ever know.

And so we meet here, you and I.  But the air is heavy with sadness.  When all of a sudden, a commotion in the back of church.  The big doors bang open and the sunlight comes exploding into this place right down the center aisle here.  It’s one of our group, a woman who loved him so deeply.    Every time we saw her since he died, she was crying.  But not today.  No, she comes rushing down this center aisle absolutely breathless, her eyes shining.  And her racing heart is contagious.  And she blurts it out:  “I saw him!  He’s alive!  He’s really alive!  Alive!”

Could you even imagine?

It would be everything – and more – that I felt recently when for that moment I thought it was my dad!  But THIS time, it is no mistaken identity.  This time it is not a fraction of a second -but for all eternity…. This time it IS real…   (brief pause)

My friends, you and I have grown up with Easter.  It has been in our blood.  Every year about this time we celebrate it.  For too many of us it has become old: the same old readings, same old music, same old homily.  Our hearts don’t race anymore at the announcement, at the first singing of the ALLELUIA.  The surprise is just old news now.  Is there a way I – or any of us – could say it?  Is there a turn of a phrase that could catch our attention this morning/tonight, and make us breathless?

Of course, I should be breathless, myself, preaching this morning, shouldn’t I?  Like I just ran in here to you as if I had just been to the tomb, and it was empty!   His body was gone!  And I couldn’t wait to tell you!   And in a moment of grace, I realized I should be breathless, not AS IF I had just run in from seeing resurrection, but because I HAVE!  Yes, with my hearts’ eyes I’ve seen love trump death – mini resurrections and big ones – in you and in me… and that makes my heart race…

• Like the woman in our parish who mother was just diagnosed with Alzheimer’s – and is opening her home for mom to come and stay – knowing that everything will change for her and her family.
• I saw it in twelve of our Newman Students who journeyed to the poorest part of Appalachia – giving up their spring break – to serve and to learn from the people they served all about love in action.
• I’ve even known it in myself when I walked into your houses after a loved one has died, or is about to die.  Though I’m always scared on some level, I’ve also found a deeper part of me which trusts that love trumps this death… and that I can be the bearer of that good news.
• Hopefully you’ve felt Easter: when you found what you needed to be able to love in the midst of whatever life threw at you.

That’s Easter, and it’s why we’re here!  It is absolutely amazing!  It is enough to make << point to self >> an old guy’s heart race again, and yours, too, if you let yourself think about it.

We should be breathless… our hearts racing at the surprise of it all… at just how good the news is… Racing as we make our way out into the world from here this morning/night … racing with joy because we’ve experienced first-hand and have seen that – love—trumps—-death —- always and everywhere.

We have seen it … and we will again.    Happy Easter, my friends.

Continue Reading

Why are we uncomfortable with people washing our feet?

Even now, Jerusalem is a dusty city.  Forensic scientists and the people from CSI and its like could have a field day with the dust that settles on the foot of any walker in Israel.  Pollen from the fig trees and flowering plants.  Salt residue from the Dead Sea.  Mold spores from the fertile Jordan River.  Bits of the ubiquitous sand from the Mediterranean Ocean.  How quickly that mixed bag of grime from the environment would coat even the most hygienically clean among the Israelites.  And how easy it would be for our generation of forensic scientists to figure out where the people of Jesus’ time had been by examining the grime from their feet.  “Spending time in the stables, I see.”  “How was that Dead Sea vacation?”  “Are the dates ripe in Capernaum yet?”  All the questions they would be able to ask by simply examining the dust on our feet…

And though our world is a bit ‘cleaner’, at least in terms of the lack of visible dust that might cling to us, isn’t there the same, exhume-able, research-able, able to be discovered ‘spiritual grime’ that needs some washing –that could use some divine cleansing.  Which is why, at the last supper, and by God’s grace – tonight – Jesus does something that is disconcerting for even the best of us.  He is going to insist on sitting at our feet.  He wants to be among us as one who washes us clean and sets us free.  Right there, where the ‘dirt of our lives’ clings to our souls like a dirty dish rag – Jesus enters our world with a basin of water and a towel around his waste.

But if you are like me, then we don’t want him wearing our grime, getting too acquainted with the dirt of where we have been. We don’t want him wearing our grime, getting too acquainted with the dirt of where we have been.

Yet what I know of our savior is that Jesus is determined to touch every gritty detail of human existence, down to the linens of a shroud.  And if there is a power to this ritual of washing and being washed, isn’t it just that.  That Jesus wants to set it all free.  And he wants to set us free from all that would restrain us; all that would keep us from being servants and disciples.

So it got me to thinking – what is the grime that I am wearing, the bits of collected muck that clings to me like the ubiquitous dirt of Palestine?  What have I allowed to cling to my heart and spirit that needs the loving hands of our Savior to gently wash it away?  Let me share 3 examples in the hopes it might open up something in your prayer this evening.

• I find myself more selfish this year.  That dirt shows up as being very protective of my time, very loath to say yes to anything that is inconvenient or stretches me or is outside of my comfort zone.  That dirt clings to me a lot these days.
• I find an attitude of pride is clinging to me.  It surfaces in many ways.  One is my sometimes stubborn refusal to ask for help because I am not sure if other people will do whatever the task is as well as I think it should be done.
• And I find the grime of predictability clinging to me as well.  It is a good day if nothing messes with my comfortable world, if my principal does not bring any ‘problems’ to our weekly meeting; if the Newman center budget is on track and the like.  I don’t like my world to be ‘un-peaceful’ and disordered, and I don’t always handle it well when it is.

Perhaps those issues are ones that you struggle with.  Perhaps it is something different.  Will you believe that the Lord wants to wash all that from your feet/heart tonight?  And whether that is physically in a few moments as we ritualize that movement up here in the sanctuary, or in your prayer as you watch others have their feet washed, know that our Lord’s desire is to wash your feet.

Uncomfortable or not, the Lord is in the business of washing feet.  And hearts.  And souls.  Will you let him?  Tonight, will you be vulnerable before the one who wore all our grime upon the cross, and washes away all the dirt of where we have been – all our selfishness and pettiness and pride.  Will you let him set you free?

Continue Reading

In the movie, Good Will Hunting, will (played by Matt Damon) is a 20 year old genius who works as a janitor at MIT.  He was severely abused as a child and has been in trouble with the law ever since. When Will finally agrees to get counseling to keep himself out of jail, he meets a therapist named Sean (played by Robin Williams). Their relationship is rocky, but Sean won’t back down, for he knows this kid is throwing away his life.  In one interchange, Sean offers – in part – this challenge to Will, speaking from the pain of his own lived life:

• “So if I asked you about art, you’d probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him. Life’s work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientations, the whole works, right? But I’ll bet you can’t tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You’ve never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling; seen that.
• You’re a tough kid. And I’d ask you about war, you’d probably throw Shakespeare at me, right, “Once more unto the breach dear friends.” But you’ve never been near one. You’ve never held your best friend’s head in your lap, watch him gasp his last breath looking to you for help.
• I’d ask you about love, you’d probably quote me a sonnet. But you’ve never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes, feeling like God put an angel on earth just for you. Who could rescue you from the depths of hell. And you wouldn’t know what it’s like to be her angel, to have that love for her, be there forever, through anything, through cancer. And you wouldn’t know about sleeping sitting up in the hospital room for two months, holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes that the terms “visiting hours” don’t apply to you.
• You don’t know about real loss, ’cause it only occurs when you’ve loved something more than you love yourself.

“You don’t know about real loss, ’cause it only occurs when you’ve loved something more than you love yourself.”

The stunning glimpse of God we have just heard in today’s passion shows a God who loves us exactly that way.  There is nothing “theoretical” about this love.  This is not an intellectual concept.  This is not some romantic feeling.  This is what love is.  This is what love does.  If we hear this story rightly, we could never again think of God as aloof, separated from us, unable to truly understand what it is like to be us…  The incredible pain in the heart of God we recount is all because Jesus loved his God more than himself, and he loved us in that same way.  As we make this journey together this week, let that be our prayer – to accept the gift of a salvific love from the one who loved us all more than himself – and to ask for the courage to love that way in return.

Continue Reading