The drama under the surface

Homily: The Baptism of the Lord – Cycle C

On January 8^th, 1978, a baby boy was baptized at Saint Mary Nativity Catholic Church.  Little did his parents and godparents know at the time that this boy would be destined to stand one day right where I am standing and preach to you, the good people of this parish, the Good News of Jesus Christ.  No, they could not know this as the mysterious plans of God would take this boy far and wide until that day that he would come here, carrying this most important news. “Who is this boy?” you might be asking. “Who is this boy destined to bring us Good News?”  Well, my friends, it’s… me. It’s just me.

You know, I remembered my baptism anniversary this past week and I realized that the whole thing was rather… undramatic.  So, I thought I’d try to infuse a little drama into it here in my homily. My guess is that, for just about everyone here, the same is true.  So true that I’m willing to bet that there aren’t five people in this church who know when their baptism anniversary is.  Am I right? Raise your hands if you know the date of your baptism.  Almost all of us here do not remember the date of our baptism.  And why? Well, probably because they were all pretty undramatic, I suppose. Nonetheless, hidden below the surface, incredibly dramatic things happened.

Jesus’ baptism, on the surface, wasn’t very dramatic either.  In fact, Luke’s Gospel barely gives it a sentence. He wrote: “After all the people had been baptized and Jesus also had been baptized and was praying...”  That’s it. No drama. Just another dip in the water like the multitudes of others that had been coming to John for his “baptism of repentance”. Under the surface, however, this was incredibly dramatic.

Imagine for a moment that you are standing in line for confession; and imagine that this is a “regular” confession for you: one in which you don’t feel the anxiety of anything major to confess, but nonetheless have acknowledged that there are some things in your life that need the grace of God’s forgiveness.  Look up and down the line. You’ll see some folks you recognize and others you do not. Now imagine that one of those folks is Jesus. Which one? Who knows? But this is the situation in which Jesus comes to be baptized by John. Jesus, a guy who looks like anyone else, comes to receive John’s baptism of repentance.  He waits his turn, enters the river, and allows John to baptize him. After, he prays.  No drama.  Hidden below the surface, however, something incredibly dramatic happened: something mostly obscured by what happened after.

What happened after was this great theophany—the manifestation of the Holy Trinity—as the skies were torn open and the Holy Spirit descended upon him and the voice of God the Father was heard declaring to him that he is his “beloved Son”.  This was pretty dramatic, to be sure. This public manifestation of Jesus’ identity steals the stage from the drama that happened in the water. The hidden drama in the water, however, was no less significant.

When you and I were baptized, I’ll bet that the most dramatic thing that happened outwardly was that the priest poured too much water and got some in your eyes or your godfather dropped your lit candle on the carpet.  Nonetheless a great drama happened, unseen to any of us: we were cleansed of sin, the Spirit of God descended upon us, and we were permanently sealed by God, marking us as his beloved children. Incredible! Something permanent and infinitely irrevocable happened to us with what looked like nothing more than a splash of water.  This hidden drama of our baptism, though, wouldn’t have been possible without the hidden drama of Jesus’.

You see, what happened at Jesus’ baptism was not God’s adoption of him (as some ancient writers had proposed—as if he hadn’t always been God’s Son and as if he just happened to be, like, the “one-millionth-customer”; thus, winning the grand prize of becoming God’s son).  Rather, what happened at his baptism was the sanctification of water as the means of new life. Jesus did not need John’s baptism: he had no need of repentance. Yet he shows us the depths of his humility by submitting to John’s baptism anyway. In doing so he purified the waters of baptism and made them powerful: able to effect the hidden drama that happens at every baptism that we celebrate today and to be the sign of new life that it inaugurates.

The public manifestation that Jesus is the Son of God was the outward expression of new life that his baptism brought.  From that moment, Jesus’ hidden life in Nazareth was over and his life of public ministry was inaugurated. So, too, for us.  Once the hidden drama of baptism unfolded, a new life in faith was inaugurated for each of us. We were incorporated into Christ and, thus, we can now no longer live a hidden life.  Rather, our lives must consist in being manifestations of the truths that have been revealed to us throughout this Christmas season: that Jesus is the divine person in human flesh—the Son of God—and that he has come to save us.

My brothers and sisters, none of us needs screenwriters to make our baptisms seem more dramatic.  There is a depth of drama already built in, hidden under the surface. What we need, however, is to let the ensuing drama—the drama of the manifestation of Jesus to the world—play out in our lives by proclaiming this Good News (with our mouths!), by living upright and holy lives (for the Saint Paul tells us that “The grace of God has appeared, saving all and training us to reject godless ways and worldly desires and to live temperately, justly, and devoutly in this age”), and by serving those in need, no matter where we are.

My brothers and sisters, God has called each of us to be a manifestation—an epiphany—of his presence to the world.  As we enter into Ordinary Time let us resolve to respond to that call, so that the drama of each of our lives might lead to the greater glory of him: the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, who lives and reigns forever and ever… AMEN!

Given at Saint Mary’s Cathedral: Lafayette, IN – January 13^th, 2019

The light and the water

Homily/Homilía: Easter Vigil/Vigilia de la Pascua – Cycle/Ciclo B

          What an amazing night that God has blessed us with to celebrate this beautiful liturgy in which we stand watch for the resurrection of Our Lord Jesus.  It is a liturgy unlike any throughout the year which truly engages all of our senses.  We started with the fire outside and walked in procession into a darkened church, which nonetheless became bright with the light of the candles and we sang the praises both of this night, which alone knew the hour that our Savior arose from the dead, and of this candle, whose light we shared and broke through the darkness of the night, just like Christ’s resurrection broke through the darkness of death.

          Then we heard the Word of God proclaimed to us: the word which reminds us of the many ways that God has worked throughout history to bring salvation to the human race; and specifically how he has used water to bring it about.  Soon we will welcome fourteen of our brothers and sisters to be washed in the waters of baptism so that they, too, might “grow into union with him through a death like his” and thus “be united with him in the resurrection.”  So prominent are these two elements—the light and the water—that it bears to speak of them with a little more detail.  First, the light.

          Darkness is a fearful thing, isn’t it?  Anyone here still afraid of the dark?  It can also be a very disorienting thing.  If you find yourself in an unfamiliar place and experience true total darkness, you’ll find yourself becoming very anxious, very quickly because you soon realize that without the aid of light, you have almost no hope to escape.  You become frozen.  Light, therefore, removes darkness and gives us confidence to move and to find our way.

          In the Gospel tonight, however, we heard of how the women went to the tomb of Jesus in the early morning and found not Jesus’ body, but rather a young man whom they did not recognize, dressed in white robe (or, as it might be similarly translated, “in a brilliantly shining robe”).  For these women, the light shining off the man sitting in the tomb of Jesus was not a comfort, but a thing of fear; and so we see that even the light can terrify us when it is misunderstood.  We have been enlightened, though, to understand that the brilliance of this light is the glory of Christ shining upon us and so we are comforted.  Tonight, this light shines especially on our elect, who will receive this light into their souls through baptism.

          And what about the water?  Water, for all of us, is a sign of life.  Not too long ago, scientists identified what they thought were signs that there was water on Mars and they rejoiced because, for them, it means that life could exist on that planet.  Water cleanses us; it refreshes us; but it can also be destructive, right?  Think back to the hurricanes and subsequent flooding last fall in Texas and the Caribbean.  Through them we are reminded that water has the power to cause massive destruction and the loss of life.

          In our reading from the book of Exodus, we heard how the Lord saved the Israelites from the Egyptians by holding the water of the Red Sea like a wall to their right and to their left while they passed through the sea to the other side.  Then, when the Egyptians tried to follow them through, the Lord allowed the water to flow back down and it covered them and destroyed them.  Christ, our Lord, calls our elect to pass through these waters—the waters of baptism—to be cleansed, to be given a new heart, and to come and drink freely of his goodness; and so with courage they enter into it.  The light and the water: earthly elements made powerful by God to bring new life to those dead in sin.

          Qué asombrosa esa noche con que Dios nos ha bendecido para celebrar esta hermosa liturgia en la que nos estamos en vigilia para la resurrección de Nuestro Señor Jesús. Es una liturgia como ninguna en todo el año, lo que realmente se involucra todos nuestros sentidos. Empezábamos con el fuego afuera y caminamos en procesión en una iglesia sin luz, que no obstante se iluminó con la luz de las velas y cantamos las alabanzas tanto de esta noche, la única que sabía la hora que nuestro Salvador resucito de entre los muertos, y de esta vela, cuya luz que hemos compartido y que rompió la oscuridad de la noche, al igual que la resurrección de Cristo rompió la oscuridad de la muerte.

          Entonces oímos la Palabra de Dios proclamada a nosotros: la palabra que nos recuerda de las muchas maneras en que Dios ha trabajado a lo largo de la historia para salvar a la raza humana; y, específicamente, cómo se ha utilizado el agua para llevarla a cabo. Pronto daremos la bienvenida a catorce de nuestros hermanos y hermanas para ser lavados en las aguas del bautismo para que también ellos pueden estar “íntimamente unidos a él por una muerte semejante a la suya” y así estar unidos con él “en su resurrección.” Tan prominentes son estos dos elementos, la luz y el agua, que merece hablar de ellos con un poco más de detalle. En primer lugar, la luz.

          La oscuridad es una cosa terrible, ¿verdad? También puede ser una cosa muy desorientador. La luz, por lo tanto, elimina la oscuridad y nos da confianza para seguir y encontrar nuestro camino.

          En el Evangelio de esta noche, sin embargo, hemos escuchado de cómo las mujeres fueron a la tumba de Jesús a primera hora de la mañana y no encontraron el cuerpo de Jesús, sino un joven al que no reconocieron, vestido con túnica blanca (o, como podría traducirse de manera similar, "en una túnica brillantemente brillante"). Para estas mujeres, la luz que brillaba en el hombre sentado en la tumba de Jesús no era una comodidad, sino una cosa de miedo; y así vemos que incluso la luz nos puede asustar cuando es mal interpretado. Pero, hemos sido iluminados para entender que el brillo de esta luz es la gloria de Cristo brillando sobre nosotros y por lo que estamos consolados. Esta noche, esta luz brilla sobre todo en nuestros elegidos, que recibirán esta luz en sus almas por medio del bautismo.

          Y ¿qué hay del agua? Agua, para todos nosotros, es un signo de vida. El agua nos limpia y nos refresca; pero también puede ser destructivo, ¿verdad? Piense en los huracanes y las subsiguientes inundaciones del otoño pasado en Texas y el Caribe. A través de ellos se nos recuerda que el agua tiene el poder de causar una destrucción masiva y la pérdida de la vida.

          En nuestra lectura del libro de Éxodo, escuchamos cómo el Señor salvó a los israelitas de los egipcios al sujetar las aguas del Mar Rojo como un muro a su derecha e izquierda mientras atravesaban el mar hacia el otro lado. Luego, cuando los egipcios trataron de seguirlos, el Señor permitió que el agua fluyera hacia abajo y los cubrió y los destruyó. Cristo, nuestro Señor, llama a nuestros elegidos a pasar por estas aguas—las aguas del bautismo—para ser purificados, para que se les dé un nuevo corazón, y para que vengan y beban libremente de su bondad; y así, con valentía, entran en ella. La luz y el agua: elementos terrenales hechos poderosos por Dios para dar nueva vida a los muertos en el pecado.

          Al haber limpiado e iluminados nuestras hermanos y hermanas, nos reuniremos alrededor y compartir en la fiesta de nuestra salvación, el sacrificio de Jesús, resucitado de entre los muertos, hecha presente para nosotros en este altar; y vamos a abarcar una vez más el cielo y la tierra de una manera muy real, ya que comer el pan de los ángeles y compartir nuestra comunión con todos los santos en Cristo. Mis hermanos y hermanas, esto es una cosa alegre que celebramos y damos gracias a Jesucristo nuestro Señor, que murió para que nosotros pudiéramos vivir y que ahora vive y permanece con nosotros en estos sacramentos, sobre todo el sacramento de la Eucaristía. Que nuestra alegría por la celebración de estos sacramentos derrama de nuestros corazones en todos estos próximos cincuenta días para que nunca pueda dejar de alabar la gloria de nuestro Dios que ha venido a salvarnos por medio de Jesucristo nuestro Señor.

          Having cleansed and enlightened our brothers and sisters through the water and through the light, we will then gather around and share in the feast of our salvation, the sacrifice of Jesus, risen from the dead, made present to us on this altar; and we will once again bridge heaven and earth in a very real way as we feast on the Bread of Angels and share our communion with all of the saints in Christ.  My brothers and sisters, this is a joyful thing that we celebrate and we give thanks to Christ Jesus our Lord who died so that we might live and who now lives and remains with us in these sacraments, most especially the sacrament of the Eucharist.  May our joy at the celebration of these sacraments pour out from our hearts throughout these next fifty days so that we may never cease to praise the glory of our God who has come to save us through our Lord Jesus Christ.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – March 31, 2018

Dado en la parroquia Todos los Santos: Logansport, IN – 31 de marzo, 2018

A Spiritual Winter

Homily: 1^st Sunday of Lent – Cycle B

          Here in Indiana, we witness the yearly winter renewal of plants.  Trees, in particular, demonstrate this renewal most dramatically.  As winter approaches, they celebrate a “carnival” of sorts as their leaves change into flashy colors just before turning brown and falling off.  Then, the trees seemingly lay dormant until spring arrives when they will bloom in bright colored flowers before sprouting new leaves in order to absorb the nutritious rays of the sun.  This is no mere “putting back on of the old”, however.  Rather the spring blooming of the trees is truly a renewal.  Now, I’ve not done any research to know whether or not this is true, but I believe that this yearly renewal actually makes them stronger and able to bear more fruit.

          As bodily creatures living in time, we too need a yearly time of renewal.  As time progresses day after day and month after month, our bodies and spirits get weighed down by the daily living of our lives.  Perhaps there are sinful habits we’ve developed over the past year or maybe our prayer lives have become stagnant and fruitless.  And so the Church gives us this season of Lent as a “spiritual winter” to help us slough off those things that are weighing us down—like the trees slough off their “seasoned” leaves—and to be renewed in our baptismal promises to live the Christian life.

          In this first Sunday of Lent, the readings help us to understand how we can approach this time of renewal.  Today we were given a glimpse both of where this journey of Lent will take us and also of how we will get there.  In the first reading, Noah emerged after forty days in the ark.  He represented humanity cleansed from sin and we see that God made a covenant with this renewed humanity never to destroy it again.  In this we see the goal of our Lenten renewal.  Our goal is to emerge from this forty day fast cleansed from sin so as to receive again the promise of God that we received in our baptism.  (Notice the “passive” tense of the verb—the cleansing being something to which we submit ourselves.)

          Then, in the Gospel reading, we heard how Jesus spent forty days in the desert, tempted by Satan, before he begins his ministry to call people to repentance.  In this we see the way we are to take to reach our goal.  As Jesus spent forty days in the desert, in which he turned away from the comforts of his daily life so as to be prepared to begin to fulfill the mission for which he came, so we, too, are called to spend forty days in which we turn away from some of the comforts of our daily lives (for example, our favorite food or drink or snacks in general, or TV or Facebook or YouTube or Netflix or the internet in general) in order that we also might turn away from those things that separate us from God and from each other (for example, from jealousy, anger, resentment, gossip, etc.).

          Now, when we turn away from something, we necessarily turn towards something else and so it is important that, as we turn away from some of the comforts of our daily lives, we pay careful attention to that to which we have turned.  The renewal of God’s covenant with humanity that happened after Noah emerged from the ark invites us to look towards the end of this forty days and to ask ourselves, “Who do I want to be at the end of this time?”  In other words, “How do I want to be renewed this Lent?”  Or, better yet, “How does God want to renew me this Lent?”  This is a really important question to answer.  Because we can take up all sorts of penitential practices this Lent (some of them heroic, even!)—and, if we do them well in a spirit of humility, we will, in some way, be renewed—but if we don’t have a goal in mind (an end toward which the renewal is aimed at achieving) then the chances that our renewal will bear fruit for God and his kingdom is slim.

          Thus, Saint Peter reminds us in our second reading that our baptism was not just a washing that removed dirt from our bodies, but rather that it was “an appeal to God for a clear conscience…”  With these words we can then expand our “important question” as we begin Lent and see that we not only have to ask ourselves “How does God want to renew me this Lent?” but also, “and for what am I being renewed?”  If you can come up with an answer to these questions, and set yourself towards realizing them, then you will be well on your way to having your best Lent ever.

          At this point, it’s important to remember that, whenever we attempt to do something good, we will inevitably encounter difficulty.  Just as Jesus was tempted in the desert, so we too can expect to encounter temptations that will tempt us to give up before we reach our goal.  This is where the tools of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving come into play.  These tools help us to overcome these temptations and to be open to God’s grace, so that we can achieve our goal.  And so we see that prayer, fasting, and almsgiving are not just ends in themselves—that is, something that we do just because it’s Lent (in other words, to use Saint Peter’s example, baptism, solely for the sake of washing away dirt)—but rather, that they are helps towards achieving our Lenten goal, the renewal of our spirits.  Thus we must select well how we will pray, fast, and give alms always with an eye towards the renewal that God wants for us.

          Nevertheless, although there are many ways that we can approach our time in Lent, one thing that is not an option is not to go through it.  The readings today show us this much.  Noah had to spend the forty days in the ark in order to receive God’s promise.  Jesus had to spend forty days in the desert before he could begin his ministry of announcing the coming of the Kingdom of God.  And so we too must go through these forty days of Lent if we truly desire the renewal in God’s promises that he himself desires to give us.

          My brothers and sisters, God truly desires that we be renewed this Lent.  Let us then commit ourselves to this goal and let us pray for God to show us how to achieve it.  Let us listen to him in prayer, discipline our bodies and our spirits by fasting, and respond more readily to our neighbors in need by giving alms, so as to make real the interior renewal of spirit that we each need.  When we do so, we will truly be ready to “bloom like the trees” this spring and to celebrate with great joy the resurrection of our Lord.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – February 18^th, 2018

Rejoice that the Lord has saved us.

Homily: 3^rd Sunday of Advent – Cycle B

          Gaudete!  Today the Church celebrates Gaudete Sunday.  “Gaudete”, because it is the Latin word for “Rejoice” and it happens to be the very first word that the Church proclaims in the Mass today.  The Mass, as it is written in Latin, begins with the Introit, or “Entrance Antiphon”, which is a short verse taken from the Bible that is said or sung (preferably sung).  The Church allows us to substitute a hymn for the antiphon and so we almost never hear it during Sunday Mass (a hymn with which everyone is familiar makes it easier to engage everyone in the Mass from the first moment); but in the official liturgical books, the Mass begins with the Introit.

          The Entrance Antiphon for the Third Sunday of Advent comes from Saint Paul’s letter to the Philippians and reads: Gaudete in Domino semper: iterum dico, Gaudete. Dominus enim prope est.  In English: “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice. Indeed, the Lord is near.”  Ever since the time of Pope Saint Gregory the Great in the sixth century this Sunday of Advent has been marked by this phrase which invites us to remember that this time of solemn preparation is also a time of joyful preparation; and it is the reason that we wear a more festive color in our vestments and we light a rose colored candle.  All of this focusing on “rejoice”, however, begs the question: “In this season of joy, in what do we rejoice?”

          For many of us, I suppose that the answer to this question is simple: We rejoice in the coming celebration of the birthday of Christ and that, with it, comes joy-filled time with family and friends following traditions of celebration that connect us to generations of loved ones.  For some of us, perhaps, we rejoice that all of our presents for loved ones have been bought and wrapped and we can spend one last week truly enjoying the season (perhaps, however, that’s only a few of us).  Maybe we rejoice in another year of good health, good work, growth in our families, or accomplishments in our personal lives.  These, of course, are all worthy things in which to rejoice (to greater and lesser degrees).  Nevertheless, not everyone is able to rejoice in these things at this time of year; and so none of these can be the reason why the Church calls us to rejoice.  This, therefore, begs the further question: “In this season of joy, in what should we rejoice?”

          For the prophet Isaiah, the answer was simple.  He had been part of God’s chosen people who had suffered in exile for years.  He had declared to the people how their sinfulness, their disregard for God and his commandments, had led to their exile as a sign that God had taken away his protection from them and that his covenant with them had been broken.  Now, however, Isaiah was able to declare joyful news: that the time of punishment was at an end.  In his own words: “The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to bring glad tidings to the poor, to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to captives and release to the prisoners, to announce a year of favor from the Lord and a day of vindication by our God.”  Everyone likes to be the bearer of good news, right?  So, no wonder why Isaiah would rejoice.  Notice, however, that this is not the reason why he rejoices.

          In the following verse we hear: “I rejoice heartily in the Lord, in my God is the joy of my soul; for he has clothed me with a robe of salvation and wrapped me in a mantle of justice, like a bridegroom adorned with a diadem, like a bride bedecked with her jewels.”  Isaiah proclaimed this joyful news: that Israel’s exile was at an end.  He rejoiced not in the news, however, but in what God had done for him: that, in declaring this good news, Isaiah is declaring that God has brought salvation to him and to his people—and, thus, that he has forgiven their sins—so that they might be restored to right relationship with God; which, for them, meant eternal life.  Now this is something in which all of us can rejoice, right?

          All of us here: those who have been baptized, and even, in a way, those who are seeking baptism, have been “clothed in a robe of salvation” through faith and, thus, it is in this that we must “rejoice heartily in the Lord”.  The Third Sunday of Advent rightly turns our focus from our anticipation of Jesus’ Second Coming to the celebration of his First Coming on the day of his birth (for it is now readily at hand).  We “rejoice”, however, not just because Jesus was born to us (even though the coming of God in human flesh would be reason enough to rejoice!), but rather because of what his birth meant for us.  It meant not just that God was going to walk among us, like one of us, but that our salvation was finally at hand!  And that the long reign of death—and sin that causes death—is now at an end: for God has come to save us!

          My brothers and sisters, if the thing in which we rejoice during this season of joy is not that the birth of Christ was the in-breaking of salvation into the world, then we’ll never understand what Saint Paul says in his letter to the Thessalonians: “Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing. In all circumstances give thanks…”  How could we possibly “rejoice, pray, and give thanks always” in this world that is still filled with so much sadness and pain unless our rejoicing was for something that transcends this world of darkness, which has the power to protect us within it and to lift us up from it?  The answer, of course, is that we can’t.  And so, the Church reminds us: Gaudete in Domino semper: “Rejoice in the Lord always…”

          Friends, if you struggle to “rejoice in the Lord”, don’t worry.  Perhaps, like the priests, Levites, and Pharisees who came out to see John the Baptist you are looking for the Lord in great signs and powerful show.  Or, perhaps, you’ve just let yourself get caught up in the materialism and commercialism of secular Christmas.  If so, allow me to remind you that the Lord in whom you will find a lasting joy has come, yes, and is coming again, yes, but is also already among us; in an appearance, perhaps, that we don’t recognize: the bread and cup that we receive from this altar.  Let us, then, turn to him here, in this humble presence, during this last, full week of Advent, and meet him again; so that, when we celebrate his birth, this joy of salvation might be in us and our joy might be complete.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – December 17^th, 2017

Conversion to a life of thankfulness

Homily: 28^th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Cycle C

          There’s one of those “make you think” quotes that runs around on the internet and in social media and which lands in front of me every once in a while.  It asks a very important question that is intended to inspire you to change your attitude for the better.  It asks this: “What if you woke up tomorrow with only the things that you were thankful for today?”  (REPEAT)

          Anyone who has lost a loved one suddenly to an accident or a sudden illness can probably tell you of the regret they sometimes feel that they didn’t appreciate more the time that they had with that person.  When a fire destroys a family’s house and all their personal possessions, they too start to realize what a gift it was to have what they had, even though they weren’t always very thankful for it.  None of us, if we are paying attention to the news, can imagine what it must be like for the people of southwestern Haiti as entire villages and towns and hundreds of lives were swept away by Hurricane Matthew.  In their grief is an inherent acknowledgement that all that they had and have now lost was a gift; and they are thankful for the very fact that they are still alive.

          The question, therefore, is inviting us to realize the truth that anyone who has experienced any of these things can tell us is true: that it is better to appreciate the things that you have, while you have them, because tomorrow they could all be taken away from you.

          Our scriptures today speak of the type of conversion to thankfulness that this internet question seeks to inspire.  Naaman, a high-ranking Syrian official (and, thus, who wasn’t a member of the Israelite people) has been afflicted with a type of skin disease that people in the Ancient Near East simply referred to as “leprosy”.  This was devastating to him as this meant that he would be ostracized from public society for fear of infecting others.  At the prompting of a young Jewish servant, Naaman seeks out the prophet Elisha, hoping to find a cure.

          Elisha instructs Naaman to wash seven times in the Jordan River.  Naaman resists, at first, thinking that if all he had to do was wash seven times in a river, that he could have done that from home.  Encouraged by his companions, however, Naaman agrees to Elisha’s plan: accepting that there is something special about washing in the Jordon River, specifically.

          Today we heard that Naaman, after washing in the Jordon, which cleansed him of his leprosy, returned to offer Elisha a gift of thanksgiving.  Naaman was a high-ranking official in another nation and in the culture of that time was not required to return and offer the prophet anything.  Because he had seemingly lost everything, however, he was much keener to be thankful for having something that was very important to him restored to him.  And when Elisha declined his generous gift, Naaman asked if he could take two big piles of dirt back with him to Syria so that he could offer continual thanks to Yahweh, the God of Israel, on the very same ground on which he first encountered him.  Having been saved from losing nearly everything, Naaman converted his life to thankfulness.

          In the Gospel, ten men who had been afflicted with leprosy cry out to Jesus to ask for healing.  Similar to Elisha, Jesus instructs them to do something very simple: “go show yourselves to the priests”.  In faith, they respond and, as they go to show themselves to the priests, they find that they have been healed.  Certainly every one of them was appreciative of the fact that their health had been restored to them.  Only one, however, returned to give thanks.  This one, a Samaritan (who were despised by the Jews because they were “half-breeds” of both Jewish and non-Jewish ancestry), recognized the great gift that he had received and returned to give thanks to the giver of the gift.  Acknowledging that he had been saved through no effort of his own, he converted his life to thankfulness.

          When we recognize something that we have as being a gift—that is, as something that we didn’t earn and were incapable of earning—then we are much more apt to be thankful for it.  When we’ve worked for something and have achieved or acquired it, we tend to look at it as our just due.  Thus, although we certainly enjoy what we have earned, we are much less likely to be grateful for having it.  When we lose such a thing, we tend to be angry, as if a great injustice has been committed against us.  In other words, our reaction is not a residual thankfulness for having been able to enjoy whatever it was, but rather anger bred from a greediness that only desires to enjoy it more.  Now, while we should never be content with injustice, conversion to a life of thankfulness means that, even when we’ve lost something unjustly, we acknowledge the gift that it was to have had it and so give thanks.

          As your pastor I feel like it is my duty to remind you of the reason that we come here week after week.  Many Catholics, I fear, would limit their reasoning for coming to Mass to a sense of duty: to fulfill their “Sunday Obligation”.  This, although noble in itself, is limited and, frankly, unsatisfying.  My reminder to you is that we don’t come here to celebrate the “Holy Satisfaction of our Obligation”, but rather we come here to celebrate the “Holy Eucharist”—that is, the Holy Thanksgiving.  In other words, we come here not to try to satisfy a vengeful God so that he won’t strike us down, but rather to offer him the ultimate sacrifice of thanksgiving for all of the blessings of life (including the blessing of life) that we have enjoyed in the past week.  In it we receive many things, of course, but the core reason we come is to offer God worship and praise in thanksgiving of all of the abundant gifts that he bestows upon us.

          And so, the question comes to us again: “What if you woke up tomorrow with only the things that you were thankful for today?”  My brothers and sisters, if you are worried that right now you wouldn’t wake up with much, then today is the day to take action.  Starting today, if we aren’t already doing it, let us commit ourselves to taking time to give thanks for every good thing that we’ve received in the world.  Then, each week, as we return here to give thanks to God for all of these gifts, we’ll be ready to drop in the collection basket all of the blessings (and even the struggles) for which we are thankful so as to unite them to the sacrifice of thanksgiving that we offer on the altar: the perfect sacrifice of Jesus that won for us the greatest gift ever, our salvation and the gift of eternal life.  In doing so, we will not only find greater satisfaction and joy in our lives, but we will also prepare ourselves for the fullness of joy that awaits us in heaven.  May God’s grace strengthen us as we commend ourselves to this good work.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – October 8^th & 9^th, 2016

The light and the water / La Luz y el agua

Homily/Homilía: Easter Vigil/Vigilia de la Pascua – Cycle/Ciclo C

          What an amazing night that God has blessed us with to celebrate this beautiful liturgy in which we stand watch for the resurrection of Our Lord Jesus.  It is a liturgy unlike any throughout the year which truly engages all of our senses.  We started with the fire outside and walked in procession into a darkened church, which nonetheless became bright with the light of the candles and we sang the praises both of this night, which alone knew the hour that our Savior arose from the dead, and of this candle, whose light we shared and broke through the darkness of the night, just like Christ’s resurrection broke through the darkness of death.

          Then we heard the Word of God proclaimed to us: the word which reminds us of the many ways that God has worked throughout history to bring salvation to the human race; and specifically how he has used water to bring it about.  Soon we will welcome eight of our brothers and sisters to be washed in the waters of baptism so that they, too, might “grow into union with him through a death like his” and thus “be united with him in the resurrection.”  So prominent are these two elements—the light and the water—that it bears to speak of them with a little more detail.  First, the light.

          Darkness is a fearful thing, isn’t it?  Anyone here still afraid of the dark?  It can also be a very disorienting thing.  If you find yourself in an unfamiliar place and experience true total darkness, you’ll find yourself becoming very anxious, very quickly because you soon realize that without the aid of light, you have almost no hope to escape.  You become frozen.  Light, therefore, removes darkness and gives us confidence to move and to find our way.  In the Gospel tonight, however, we heard of how the light shining off of the two men sitting in the tomb of Jesus was not a comfort, but a thing of fear; and so we see that even the light can terrify us when it is misunderstood.  We have been enlightened, though, to understand that the brilliance of this light is the glory of Christ shining upon us and so we are comforted.  Tonight, this light shines especially on our elect, who will receive this light into their souls through baptism.

          And what about the water?  Water, for all of us, is a sign of life.  Not too long ago, scientists identified what they thought were signs that there was water on Mars and they rejoiced because, for them, it means that life could exist on that planet.  Water cleanses us; it refreshes us; but it can also be destructive, right?  Think back to the recent tsunamis in the Philippines and in Japan.  Water has the power to cause massive destruction and the loss of life.  In our first reading from the book of Exodus, we heard how the Lord saved the Israelites from the Egyptians by holding the water of the Red Sea like a wall to their right and to their left while they passed through the sea to the other side.  Then, when the Egyptians tried to follow them through, the Lord allowed the water to flow back down and it covered them and destroyed them.  Christ, our Lord, calls our elect to pass through these waters—the waters of baptism—to be cleansed, to be given a new heart, and to come and drink freely of his goodness; and so with courage they enter into it.  The light and the water: earthly elements made powerful by God to bring new life to those dead in sin.

          Qué asombrosa esa noche con que Dios nos ha bendecido para celebrar esta hermosa liturgia en la que nos estamos en vigilia para la resurrección de Nuestro Señor Jesús. Es una liturgia como ninguna en todo el año, lo que realmente se involucra todos nuestros sentidos. Empezábamos con el fuego fuera y caminamos en procesión en una iglesia sin luz, que no obstante se iluminó con la luz de las velas y cantamos las alabanzas tanto de esta noche, la única que sabía la hora que nuestro Salvador se levantó de entre los muertos, y de esta vela, cuya luz que hemos compartido y que derrumbó la oscuridad de la noche, al igual que la resurrección de Cristo derrumbó la oscuridad de la muerte.

          Entonces oímos la Palabra de Dios proclamada a nosotros: la palabra que nos recuerda de las muchas maneras en que Dios ha trabajado a lo largo de la historia para salvar a la raza humana; y, específicamente, cómo se ha utilizado el agua para llevarla a cabo. Pronto daremos la bienvenida a ocho de nuestros hermanos y hermanas ser lavados en las aguas del bautismo para que también ellos pueden estar “íntimamente unidos a él por una muerte semejante a la suya” y así estar unidos con él “en su resurrección.” Tan prominentes son estos dos elementos, la luz y el agua, que merece hablar de ellos con un poco más de detalle. En primer lugar, la luz.

          La oscuridad es una cosa terrible, ¿verdad? También puede ser una cosa muy desorientador. La luz, por lo tanto, elimina la oscuridad y nos da confianza para seguir y encontrar nuestro camino. En el Evangelio de esta noche, sin embargo, hemos escuchado de cómo la luz que brilla fuera de los dos hombres que estaban en el sepulcro de Jesús no era un consuelo, pero una cosa del miedo; y así vemos que incluso la luz que nos puede asustar cuando es mal interpretado. Hemos sido iluminados, sin embargo, para entender que el brillo de esta luz es la gloria de Cristo brillando sobre nosotros y por lo que estamos consolados. Esta noche, esta luz brilla sobre todo en nuestros elegidos, que recibirán esta luz en sus almas por medio del bautismo.

          Y ¿qué hay del agua? Agua, para todos nosotros, es un signo de vida. El agua nos limpia y nos refresca; pero también puede ser destructivo, ¿verdad? Piense de nuevo a los recientes tsunamis en las Filipinas y en Japón. El agua tiene el poder de causar una destrucción masiva y la pérdida de la vida. En nuestra primera lectura, tomada del libro del Éxodo, oímos cómo el Señor salvó a los israelitas de los egipcios mediante la celebración de las aguas del Mar Rojo como una muralla a su derecha ya su izquierda, mientras que pasaron por el mar hasta el otro lado. Entonces, cuando los egipcios intentaron seguirles, el Señor permitió que el agua fluya de nuevo y que los cubrió y los destruyó. Cristo, nuestro Señor, llama a nuestras elegidos para pasar a través de estas aguas, las aguas del bautismo, para ser limpiados, para ser dado un nuevo corazón, y para venir a beber libremente de su bondad; y así, con el valor entran en él. La luz y el agua: elementos terrestres hechos poderosos por Dios para traer nueva vida a los muertos en el pecado.

          Al haber limpiado e iluminados nuestras hermanos y hermanas, nos reuniremos alrededor y compartir en la fiesta de nuestra salvación, el sacrificio de Jesús, resucitado de entre los muertos, hecha presente para nosotros en este altar; y vamos a abarcar una vez más el cielo y la tierra de una manera muy real, ya que comer el pan de los ángeles y compartir nuestra comunión con todos los santos en Cristo. Mis hermanos y hermanas, esto es una cosa alegre que celebramos y damos gracias a Jesucristo nuestro Señor, que murió para que nosotros pudiéramos vivir y que ahora vive y permanece con nosotros en estos sacramentos, sobre todo el sacramento de la Eucaristía. Que nuestra alegría por la celebración de estos sacramentos derrama de nuestros corazones en todos estos próximos cincuenta días para que nunca pueda dejar de alabar la gloria de nuestro Dios que ha venido a salvarnos por medio de Jesucristo nuestro Señor.

          Having cleansed and enlightened our brothers and sisters, we will then gather around and share in the feast of our salvation, the sacrifice of Jesus, risen from the dead, made present to us on this altar; and we will once again bridge heaven and earth in a very real way as we feast on the Bread of Angels and share our communion with all of the saints in Christ.  My brothers and sisters, this is a joyful thing that we celebrate and we give thanks to Christ Jesus our Lord who died so that we might live and who now lives and remains with us in these sacraments, most especially the sacrament of the Eucharist.  May our joy at the celebration of these sacraments pour out from our hearts throughout these next fifty days so that we may never cease to praise the glory of our God who has come to save us through our Lord Jesus Christ.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – March 26, 2016

Dado en la parroquia Todos los Santos: Logansport, IN – 26 de marzo, 2016

Jesus saves us from the zombie apocalypse

          I preached for the third scrutiny today and the readings centering around the Gospel reading of the Raising of Lazarus.  Enjoy!

Image from the scene of "Hungry Eyes" shot in Logansport 

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Homily: 5^th Sunday of Lent – Cycle C (Scrutinies)

          A couple of years ago, I was home visiting my folks and we were in the car going out to dinner when I noticed on the back windows of a couple of cars stickers that referenced a coming “Zombie Apocalypse”.  The one I remember clearly said: “Zombie Apocalypse Survival Vehicle”.  I turned to ask my sister if this was something I was imagining or if people really were worried about a zombie apocalypse and she told me that was kind of a “thing” that people were into.  Since then I’ve noticed that there seems to be a fascination with zombies: the TV series, “The Walking Dead”, the 2011 film “Zombie Apocalypse”, and the 2013 film “World War Z” all testify to this.

          In fact, poor Fr. Clayton received an awkward first impression of Logansport when, on the first day of his assignment here, as I was taking him out to dinner, we passed by a group of people who were all made-up like zombies for the filming of that scene of the film “Hungry Eyes” that was filmed here in Logansport.  I recall distinctly that he responded with what has now become his quite commonplace response: “Where am I?”

          So, why have we become so fascinated with zombies?  Well, that I can’t really answer.  As a subject for entertainment, however—that is, for those who are entertained by these type of gory thrillers—I can propose a few thoughts.  First, of course, is that they are “thrillers”—that is, they get our blood pumping—and in this way, they are kind of like roller coasters; which, if they don’t make us sick, are a lot of fun.  Second is that there is something about this idea of dead bodies coming back to life: only this time without any rational soul and with an insatiable desire to consume human flesh.  I mean, it’s our worst nightmare, right?  Every other threat to our lives we can stop by killing it, ultimately.  But what about those who are already dead?  How do you kill what’s already dead?  And how do you stop something that doesn’t seem to need food to survive, but nonetheless has an insatiable need to eat?  Yes, it’s our worst nightmare, but it is just far enough removed from any reality that we know that we’re not traumatized by seeing it portrayed on a screen.

          If we take a step back and reflect for a moment, however, we may realize that this nightmare is something that we are more ready to embrace and to face.  You see, in an era in which more and more people are turning away from the idea that there can be new life after death, anything that “re-animates” after having died will assuredly be monstrous: the idea of resurrection (that is, that life is renewed or reborn, not just resuscitated) is thought of as absurd.

          You see, death is a reality that we all must face.  For those of us in the Judeo-Christian tradition, death is a result of sin and the decay associated with death is the evidence that, separated from God, no life can be sustained.  We believe that God has the power to restore us to life, however, and so when Ezekiel says “Thus says the Lord God: O my people, I will open your graves and have you rise from them;” we don’t think of the zombie apocalypse (though, perhaps, now you will), rather we think about being resurrected to new life.  In a very real way, this is exactly what Jesus proved when he raised Lazarus from the dead and, more poignantly, when he himself rose from the dead.

          For those who have abandoned this tradition, however, death is simply the final part of life and the decay associated with death is simply the natural breakdown of the material body once the animating power no longer exists.  In this there is no power to restore life: only nightmarish concepts of bodies rising from graves by some unknowable power only to suck the lives out of those who are still living.  And so we see that, in a world in which God is denied (or simply ignored)—that is, a world without the resurrection of Christ—any concept of life after death can’t be anything more than the zombie apocalypse.  By acknowledging Christ’s resurrection, however, we come to realize that life after death isn’t something monstrous; rather it is something new and glorious and to be sought after.

          Eight of our brothers and sisters have acknowledged Christ’s resurrection and so have come to realize that God offers us something beautiful after this life is through.  Their desire is to be united to that offer (like the rest of us have been) through Baptism at the Easter Vigil.  To help them prepare, we have spent the last weeks scrutinizing them: calling them to turn away from sin and towards new life in Christ and today is our final scrutiny, in which we will remind them that only Jesus can save us from the death that sin has imposed upon us and ask God once again to free them from any and every attachment to sin to which they might still be clinging.

          And, of course, this message is also for all of us: a reminder of the necessity to remain vigilant against any attachment to sin that may creep into our lives.  One of the best ways that we do this, of course, is to make frequent use of the sacrament of reconciliation.  By making good and sincere confessions regularly throughout the year, we keep tabs on which sins in our lives have become habitual—and, thus, have become an attachment to our lives—so that we can take steps to remove these sinful habits and replace them with virtuous ones.

          My brothers and sisters, Jesus Christ, Emmanuel, God with us, has proven to us that, while death will still touch all of us, life after death will not be a nightmarish zombie apocalypse: at least not for those who have been united to him in a death like his through Baptism.  Rather, it will be new and glorious if only we remain faithful to him throughout our short time here in this world.  Let us pray, then, for our brothers and sisters, the elect—and let us pray also for ourselves—that, strengthened by our celebration of this Holy Eucharist, we may come to the realization of that glorious new life that awaits us: the eternal Easter of heaven.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – March 13^th, 2016

Discovering completeness

          We are very blessed at All Saints to have eight people who will receive new life in the waters of Baptism this Easter and so we began this week with the first of the three scrutinies.  At the Mass in which these are celebrated, we use the readings from Year A; this week that included the Gospel reading of the "Woman at the Well".  It's such a beautiful exchange between the woman and Jesus which, I pray, touched the hearts of our Elect.

Easter is coming close!  Next weekend... Laetare Sunday!

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Homily: 3^rd Sunday of Lent – Cycle C (Scrutinies)

          Advertisers have a pretty simple job.  (Now remember that when I say “simple” I don’t necessarily mean “easy”, I just mean “not complicated”).  When creating an ad, they only have to accomplish two things: 1) they have to awaken a sense within the person that there is something missing from his or her life, something that he or she should not be living without, and 2) they have to prove to the person how their product can fill that void.  Pretty simple, right?

          Probably one of the clearest examples of this is the most recent Snickers candy bar ads.  It reads "Hungry?  Grab a Snickers.”  First, its asking “Aren’t you hungry?”, which, if you haven’t eaten in the last 20 minutes, you will subconsciously answer “Yes, I am.”  Then, it presents their product as the thing that you need to satisfy your hunger: either right now, or as the thing that you will think about the next time that you feel hungry.  What they’ve done in two easy steps is that they’ve awakened in you a sense that you are missing something and they’ve presented their product as the way to fill that void.

          Many ads are more clever and complex than this one—often proposing products that you wouldn’t think would have anything to do with fulfilling that need as being able to fulfill it: like how drinking a certain beverage can gain you friends and good times.  You don’t need a beverage to make friends, but they want you to believe that you do.

          This touches on a weakness of our human nature, I think.  You see, we were meant for eternal things: things that don’t just satisfy us in the here and now, but that satisfy us eternally.  Yet our nature, disfigured by sin, constantly strives to fill in the spaces that can only be fulfilled by eternal things with things of this world.  These very often are material things—cars, houses, clothes, gadgets, etc.—but they can also be non-material things—like relationships, power, and prestige among our peers.

          A case in point: there’s that famous scene from the movie “Jerry Maguire” in which Tom Cruise’s character confronts Renee Zellweger’s character to tell her his true feelings for her; and he says, with all dramatic sincerity, “You complete me.”  Now, this is very touching (and I’m as much a romantic as many of you are), but what he says is patently false.  The truth is that nothing in this world “completes” us, because we were meant for eternal things; and as long as we are living in this finite world we will never find completeness.  Simply stated, we were meant for God and nothing less than God can complete us.  Because our relationships can model for us the type of self-giving intimacy that we will experience when we are unified with God, we can feel as if they truly complete us; but the reality is that they can never fully complete us, because only God has in himself everything that we need to eternally complete us.

          And don’t we see this happening all around us.  People who are longing to feel that completeness and falling victim to every advertisement that says “those hungers that you have in your heart and in your body can be satisfied by this product”, when, if they knew the God who created them and who longs to fulfill all of those hungers within them, they would look past those things, using them for the goodness inherent in them, but not making saviors out of them.  These are the people who eat too much, drink too much, work too much, shop too much, hop from one relationship to another (or one marriage to another), or from one church to another…  They are failing to recognize that there is no satisfying our hungers in this finite world, because what we hunger for are things eternal.

          This is the story of the Samaritan woman at the well in today’s Gospel reading.  It is the story of a person who has been seeking completeness in relationships so desperately that she has entered into marriage five times.  Not finding the completeness that she was looking for, she has given up on marriage, it seems, and has resigned to living with another man outside of marriage, so she could at least be provided for.  Her encounter with Jesus will awaken within her the realization that she is still longing for something more and how it is that she can find fulfillment.

          Jesus, like a good ad executive, grabs her attention by doing something unexpected: he asks her to give him a drink.  She was shocked because the social mores did not permit Jews and Samaritans to share utensils.  Now that Jesus has her attention, however, he awakens in her a sense of what it is that she’s been missing.  He says, “If you knew the gift of God and who is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.”  At first she was skeptical: “How can this man, who doesn’t even have a bucket, give me flowing water?”  Jesus then promises something even more curious: “whoever drinks the water I shall give will never thirst”.  Whoa.  This is bigger than just a constant supply of water.  This is eliminating thirst altogether!  And the woman takes the bait: hook, line, and sinker.  “Sir, give me this water, so that I may not be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.”  Jesus awakened in her a sense of what she really wanted and offered her something that would satisfy that need, even if she didn’t understand how he could do it.

          Jesus didn’t stop there, however.  Rather, he went right on to awaken her to her deeper need.  He tells her to call her husband and, when she claims not to have a husband, Jesus shocks her again and reveals that he knows her as well as she knows herself.  Recognizing now that Jesus is more than just some random Jewish man, but that he is a prophet, she engages him in religious questions, ultimately prompting her to reveal that she was living in expectation of the coming of the Messiah—something that, whether or not she recognized it, was her deepest longing.  Jesus responds by revealing that he is the Messiah, the one that she (along with all the Jews) had been waiting for.

          Overwhelmed by this sudden taste of completeness, she runs off to tell everyone in town.  Having tasted true completeness, she was no longer concerned about the judgments of the townspeople—their approval or disapproval was no longer an issue; rather, her only concern was to share this good news.  In doing so, she brings others to know him (and, thus, to taste completeness), too.  Many of the townspeople came to Jesus because of the testimony of the woman; and they listened to him and they came to know for themselves the same completeness that the woman had experienced: the completeness that can only be realized by entering into relationship with the eternal.

          Eight of our brothers and sisters have had their sense of incompleteness awakened and have recognized that this incompleteness can only be satisfied by entering into a relationship with the eternal through baptism.  Last weekend, they were “elected”—that is, “chosen”—to receive this grace by our Bishop because they have shown an understanding that it is Jesus alone who can fulfill their incompleteness and they have shown a willingness to follow him.  Today (and in the following two weeks) we will “scrutinize” them: inviting them in concrete ways to leave off sin and to follow Christ.  And this is a call that we all receive as we participate in these scrutinies with them: that is, to renew our commitment to turn away from sin—in whatever form it has crept into our lives—and to follow Christ, who is our eternal completeness, with our whole hearts once again.

          Strengthened by our participation in this Eucharist, may we then go forth to proclaim with conviction to all those who are not with us that we have found everything that we have been longing for here, when we encountered Jesus Christ in his Church, and so invite them here to experience the same.  Then and only then, my brothers and sisters, will we begin to realize the fullness of the completeness that awaits us when we are all united with Christ in the eternal life of heaven.  May God strengthen us in our efforts to complete this good and holy work.

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – February 28^th, 2016

Don't worry, you're already dead

Homily: Easter Sunday of the Resurrection of the Lord – Cycle B

          HE IS RISEN!  ALLELUIA!!!  Man, it feels so good to say that!  You know, it’s easy to get caught up in all of the activities that have gone on over the past three days—or even the past six weeks, if we think back to everything that’s happened since the beginning of Lent.  That’s why, in hindsight, I was really glad to have gotten a call yesterday to go see one of our parishioners named Wirt.  You see, Wirt is dying.  He’s 97 years old and has been relatively spry for most of those years, but now his body is failing and it doesn’t look like it will be too long before he dies.  He’s a patient and faith-filled man, however.  He’s spent these last years without his wife, to whom he had been married for over sixty years and he wants nothing else but to see her again; yet he’ll tell anyone that he’s content to wait until the Lord calls him home.

          I got the call not because Wirt was on the verge of death, but rather because he had been very upset over the past day or so.  You see, as death finally approaches for Wirt, he’s become very anxious about it.  He’s starting to ask ultimate questions like, “Am I ready?” and “Do I have enough faith?”  He’s confronting the uncertainty of death—or, rather, of what comes after death—and it has started to scare him.

          As I sat and listened to him, I couldn’t help but think about how providential it was that we were having this discussion on Holy Saturday.  You see, the original Holy Saturday was a day filled with uncertainty.  After the whirlwind of events that began on Thursday night and ended with Jesus’ burial on Friday evening, his disciples and those who followed him spent all day on Saturday dealing with all that had happened.  Saturday was the Sabbath day, in which they could do no work, thus I imagine that they spent the day wondering about what had happened and what would happen next.  I imagine them asking themselves and one another, “How could this be?”, “What does this mean?” and “What are we going to do now?”  Even though they had heard Jesus’ words about rising to new life, they still felt an incredible amount of anxiety now that they faced the reality of Jesus’ death.

          The fact that, by Saturday evening, some of them had given up on the idea of rising again is apparent from our Gospel reading today.  It says that “When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, Mary, the mother of James, and Salome brought spices so that they might go and anoint him.”  Now, no one anoints the body of someone whom they think is going to come back to life.  Yet here we see these women, who had followed Jesus, bringing spices to anoint his lifeless body.  The reality of resurrection, in light of all that had happened on Friday, was incomprehensible to them and so they came to do what they would do for any loved one who had died: anoint his body with spices for his eternal rest.

          When they arrive they find that the stone laying over the entrance to the tomb had been rolled away.  “Surely we must have the wrong tomb” they must have thought.  So they went in and found it empty.  Well, not empty; because there was a young man in a white robe sitting there who confirmed that not only did they have the correct tomb, but that Jesus, for whom they were looking, had been raised from the dead.  “Do not be amazed” this young man said.  Do not be amazed?  How could you not be amazed when you walk into a tomb where a day and a half ago you just laid the body of a man who was surely dead, but now you find that body gone and another man telling you that “he has been raised”?  They are amazed; and they return, following the young man’s instructions, to tell Peter and the disciples what they had seen and what the young man had told them.

          In the days and weeks and months to follow, this news—and the disciples’ encounters with the Risen Lord—will move them to speak boldly about Jesus to anyone who would listen.  They gave testimony about the one who was crucified, but who now lives.  This was incredible, because for the people of that time crucifixion was a most sure form of death: there was no coming back.  Jesus, therefore, truly was the one the prophets spoke about and so Peter and the disciples gave witness to this through the power of the Holy Spirit working within them.

          We receive this witness and celebrate this incredible event here today; and not just today, but for the next 50 days.  Even more so, we celebrate the fact that, through Baptism, we too have died with Christ and have been raised with him.  Thus, we who have been baptized no longer have any reason to fear death.  This, in fact, is what Paul is saying in his letter to the Colossians when he says “For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.”  This is why we can hold up the cross as the sign of our victory; because what was once a symbol of death has been transformed into a sign of hope: that the power of God through Christ Jesus can overcome the worst suffering that the world can inflict.

          This is the message that I tried to impart to Wirt yesterday: that, through baptism, he has already died, and his life is now hidden with Christ in God and that, thus, he has nothing to fear.  My brothers and sisters, this is the message that I would like to impart to you today, too: that, through baptism, each of you has already died, and each of your lives is now hidden with Christ in God.  To celebrate this today we will renew our baptismal promises, so as to renew our faith in the life we have in Christ Jesus.  May this life—and the joy of this Holy Day—inspire us to give witness to this good news and thus to spread this light and joy throughout the whole world, because HE IS RISEN!  ALLELUIA!!!

Given at All Saints Parish: Logansport, IN – April 5^th, 2015