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March 29, 2008

2nd Sunday of Easter - If Jesus Came Back: How Would We Know

On occasion as I begin Mass on a typical Sunday, I ask myself, “Is this the way Jesus would do what I’m doing?” If Jesus decided to come back to any typical Catholic parish on a given Sunday morning, would he, or his early disciples still recognize what we are doing to be what Jesus did at the Last Supper or what those early Christians did in their little communities described in the Acts of the Apostles? Probably not, at least in some of the details that we follow today.

But does it make any difference? History, as we know, moves on. Everything changes over periods of time, even something as sacred and transcendent as the Mass.

Nonetheless, it is interesting to imagine what Jesus, from his place in God’s kingdom, must think about what has transpired in the Church over two thousand years. We Christians surely hope that we have not taken too many liberties with those words Jesus used and the basic actions Jesus performed at the Last Supper.

The better question to ask, of course, is not what would Jesus think if he were to walk into our worship space some Sunday morning, but rather, can we typical Sunday morning Catholics, recognize Jesus in our churches as the early Christians recognized him after the resurrection?

I think there are two ways to answer that question and the answers are in the scriptures for this Second Sunday in Easter season.

The first answer comes from the Acts of the Apostles the book that describes what those early Christian communities looked like. The first thing you will notice is that they were not Mega Churches where three or four thousand folks gathered. They were simply small gatherings of perhaps a couple dozen families, from the same neighborhood where everyone knew each other and surely felt committed to each other: Poor and rich, famous and not so famous, even of different nationalities.

How does that compare to the church, the Christian community, we are part of? Can I find Jesus present in that person sitting next to me even though I may not know his or her name or even recognize his different nationality? After all, we both go by the name Christian, do we not? That should be enough to bond us into the community of Jesus.

Secondly, that reading from Acts says that the early Christians celebrated Eucharist in a very simple way: They devoted themselves to the breaking of the bread and to prayers. They also shared what common goods they had. So, the question: Despite how different our Church looks today, despite all the elements that have been added to our liturgy over the years, can we still recognize Jesus in this community? Can we find him again in the simple act of the breaking of bread and prayers?

The third element mentioned in that reading is that those early Christians were a happy lot. They “ate their meals with exultation!” The question is: How happy do we seem to be on a typical Sunday? Do these Christians gathering for the ten o’clock Mass look like they believe in the resurrection? Could a stranger recognize them as joyful people if he or she happened to drift in on a Sunday morning?

I realize to, of course, that a lot of history has happened in our Church over the years, but my point is that it would be a nice idea for all of us to compare ourselves to those early Christians, perhaps even to simplify our worship so that Jesus would continue to become evident to us when we gather.

Now we turn to that nice little story of Thomas, “the doubter,” who had such a hard time being convinced that it was still the same Jesus he met on that day after Jesus’ death and resurrection.

I have always had a certain compassion for Thomas: He refused to take things for granted. He knew that Jesus had been killed and now he is told that Jesus is still living! It might take a lot to convince any of us that a friend of ours, whom we knew had died, has suddenly reappeared alive. “Give me proof,” we’d say, just as Thomas said: “Let me touch, please.”

It’s so easy, of course, two thousand years after the event to say: “What’s the matter with this guy?” What should it take to convince him? Remember, however, we have two thousand years of reflection on all this, lots of theology. It’s so easy for us to simply say: “Hey, just believe; it’s ok.”

The more important question to ask, however, is not the one about Thomas, but rather to ask: Is our faith in the risen Jesus strong enough to find Him not in the flesh or the wounds as Thomas was asked to do. Rather the question to ask is this: Can we still find Jesus in the symbols that the early Church has left us, those signs that say, Jesus is present, but not necessarily in the flesh, in a human way?

How much of an effort do we make, for instance, to pay careful attention to the gospel, the words of Jesus, as they are proclaimed on a Sunday? Has the Mass, the Eucharist gotten a little “threadbare” for us over the years, a little “same-same” after having celebrated it Sunday after Sunday? Like those early Christians, can we still get excited about coming together on Sunday? Are we still convinced that it is worth the effort to throw our whole being into this one wonderful hour of prayer? Can we allow these sacred moments simply to become the “same-old-same –old” week after week?

Finally, like Thomas, the apostle, perhaps we should insist that all we are really hoping for during that hour on Sunday is to be back in touch with Jesus. It worked pretty well for Thomas. With a little effort, it should work for us too.

The scriptures: Acts 2: 42-47; 1 Peter 1: 3-9; John 20: 19-31

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 02:25 PM.

March 22, 2008

Easter Sunday - Searching For Jesus in the World

Although I seldom publicly announce this, I have always considered myself something of a secularist, a worldly person. To some folks that may sound like a scandalous thing for a priest to say. Others might say, “Well, that’s pretty obvious.” Nonetheless, secular and sacred have always been considered opposites, contradictory positions. People say that priests should be “other worldly.”

Nonetheless, the fact that I am a priest, a baptized Christian and that all of you here this morning are baptized Christians does not mean that you have deserted life in the real world, the only world we know. We all still go about our daily tasks, show our responsibility to the community, to our neighbors.

The reason why I can safely say that a Christian can also be a secularist is because I believe that there is something sacred about the world, all the experiences that we have here. It’s God’s gift to us and it’s our responsibility to make something good out of something that is already good and holy. I think most folks, whether they are Christian/Catholic or not believe that. Let me offer you some examples of why I believe that.

Did you ever notice how people in the secular world often are attracted to some of our Christian feasts or celebrations? Take the feast of the Nativity of the Lord, for instance. Most secular folks know it as Christmas, but notice what they do during that season? They celebrate in all sorts of secular ways: Gift giving, card sending, visiting friends, et cetera. Whether they believe in the birth of the Savior is hard to say, but they know there is something sacred about this day, so they celebrate it.

Or take the feast of Saint Valentine which folks in the secular world call Valentine’s Day. We usually think of Valentine’s Day to be associated with red roses, candy heart-shaped boxes, winged cherubs flying about shooting starry-eyed loves with arrows.

But Valentine’s Day is first of all the feast of a Christian Martyr, a young Roman citizen who lived in the Third Century A, D. during the reign of the Emperor Claudius. He healed the daughter of the jailor of the prison where he was confined. The jailor and his whole family were converted to Christianity. It was Valentine’s gift to the jailor and his family. So, that is where the secular world gets the idea of gift giving on Valentine’s Day. Lovers give gifts to one another. Can’t get any more Christian than that.

Finally, we come to Easter, the glorious day we celebrate today. It is also a big day in the secular world, of course, even though most folks do not know it by it’s true title: The Resurrection of the Lord. But that does not stop secular people from celebrating it even in strange ways: Easter egg hunts on the Whitehouse lawn, purchasing rabbits or baby chicks for whatever reason. Perhaps they will eat lamb at Easter dinner.

But, intuitively I think people also know there is something sacred about this day, whether they happen to attend church or not. Therefore, they follow secular customs. If it were not already a holy day, they might not do all these things. For all those reasons, therefore, I am a secularist, a man of the world.

So, is there any theological insight we can draw from this feast which is both sacred and, for many people, also secular? What have we believed about Christ’s resurrection since the earliest times of Christianity? We have believed that a good Jewish man, Jesus of Nazareth went about preaching the good news of God’s kingdom. People who heard his words often felt that God had spoken and given them new life.

Not only that, Jesus, that good man, went out of his way on several occasion to feed people. People went home feeling that their life had been restored, that God had fed them.

On the night before he died he celebrated a meal, the Paschal meal, with his friends and he told them that whenever they would do what he had just done, they should remember him.

Finally, people killed that good man, Jesus, but three days later Jesus’ followers had this strange feeling and conviction that he had risen from the dead and was still with them. In fact, he even appeared to them on several occasion and ate with them.

Notice, none of them tried to explain how Jesus was raised from the dead, but they knew instinctively that the same person was still with them and that gave them life and hope.

So, whether or not the secular world understands all this about Jesus’ resurrection, it is still all about a celebration of the life of Christ that goes on forever. It’s not about the resuscitation of a dead body.

The question then is this: How should we celebrate the resurrection today? For some, coloring Easter eggs will do, buying little chicks as well perhaps. But for those of us who believe that Jesus’ resurrection is an article of faith and that it has been passed down to us for over two thousand years we would expect do something more: We will listen again to the resurrection stories. We will celebrate the Eucharist again and again as he asked us to do.

But there are also some so-called secular experiences that happen in our world every day that could remind us that Christ is risen.

Here is my sense of it: Whenever there is a sign of new life, Jesus Christ is risen. (No proof needed) When, for instance husbands and wives make up after a quarrel, Christ is risen. Whenever families put their differences aside and live together in peace, Christ is risen. When Pope Benedict leads the world in efforts to find peace, Christ is risen. When people in government try to mend fences and live peacefully, Christ is risen. Whenever a teenager is made to feel that he or she is worthwhile, Christ is risen. Whenever a person with AIDS is cured, Christ is risen. When battered women and children are helped to find new life, Christ is risen. In short, whenever any of us do any of these things, Christ is risen.

So, where do all those things happen? They happen out there in our secular world where we live and work every day.

Perhaps being a secular person, therefore, isn’t such a bad option after all. We’re all in some sense secularists. It’s in the world where spend most of our time. By the way, that’s also where Jesus spent most of his time too, out on the road, in the world. That’s always good to know, isn’t it? The world isn’t such a bad place after all.

The scriptures: Acts 10: 34a, 37-43, Colossians 3: 1-4, John 20: 1-9

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 09:33 AM.

March 15, 2008

Palm Sunday - Walking into Face of Danger

I imagine the image most of us have of a parade is a happy occasion commemorating some extraordinary event or accomplishment. Parades, of course, are always or usually open-air events. They happen on Broadway or on the main streets of towns and villages around the country. Everyone somehow becomes part of the parade, whether you are actually sitting in the back of a fancy car or sitting on the sidewalk watching the notables go by. We all love parades, even if we sometimes get rained on. Makes no difference.

When the troops come home from Iraq, there will always be a grand reception in every small town around the country. The soldiers will be in full dress uniform, eyes straightforward; a band will accompany them. No effort will be spared to show our thanks for these men and women who risked their lives for our country.

Sometimes the parades are about less serious matters, like the one that took place in New York a couple months ago when the Giants came home the winners of the Super Bowl or again when the Boston Red Sox won the World Series.

In other words, this is the way we pay attention to certain events and heroes in our country’s history: We watch, we cheer, and sometimes we also cry. It’s all about showing our emotions about things we love.

But let us also say that parades can be signs of other things as well: They can be signs of power, for instance, ways of showing that justice should be served, that peoples rights and freedoms should be respected. So, in that sense, parades or public demonstrations can be dangerous occasions.

All of us can remember days when our heroes were shot: John Kennedy’s death in Dallas. He was a hero to many. Others will remember the day John Lennon of the Beatles was shot in New York City. He was also a hero to many. And who can forget the day that Pope John Paul II was shot in St. Peter’s Square in Rome. He was a hero to Catholics and others as well. More recently we witnessed the assassination of Ms Benazir Bhutto, the leading opposition candidate in Pakistani politics. The common thing we can say of all these individuals is that they were heroes to some, enemies to others, but especially that they were willing to take the risk of being out in public where their friends could be in touch with them. They also spoke truth to power and paid for it.

Given all that, my friends, we celebrate today the life and death of one who is truly a hero to all of us: Jesus of Nazareth.

We call this day the Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion. What we remember best of this day, of course, is the blessing of the palms and the procession (parade!). It resembles the procession of Jesus into the city of Jerusalem and describes his friends who thought him a hero and demonstrated it by laying palm branches in his way. (No confetti in those days!)

The word we do not think of so often on this day, however, is Passion. We think of it more often on Good Friday, the day of the Lord’s death.

But I would like to think of passion in the way we think of it in daily life. We say for instance that some folks are passionately dedicated to football or some other sport. But we also say that some people are passionate about justice and peace, about abolishing the death penalty and so forth.

That is the way I think of Jesus: He was passionate about honesty in God’s temple. He walked in publicly and threw out those who were cheating the poor out of their small savings. He would not allow his followers to be violent. He spoke of peace when others would take up the sword. It was all of these matters that Jesus was passionate about. It was these that also brought him to his death. He spoke truth to power.

So, that is what is so striking about that little palm procession in Jerusalem that day: A man on a donkey rides into the face of power, religious and secular, and lets power know that someone is here to do battle with it.

There is a lovely little story about Dorothy Day, the fearless peace activist. She was asked one time how Pope Pius XII could have stopped Hitler. Dorothy replied: “Well, he could have ridden into Berlin on a donkey!”

Whether that would have made any difference, I do not know. But it tells you that some folks more than others have a passion for peace.

That brings us to the question of what we are willing to walk for. What are we so passionate about that we are willing to stand in public and demonstrate for it, even at the risk of our life?

So, my friends, that is what I think the Palm Sunday of the Lord’s passion is all about. It is not about waving palms and singing songs. It’s about honoring and adoring our hero Jesus Christ who has given us the example of what it takes to be declared a Christian. In short, it’s all about risks and the courage to take them.

The scriptures: Isaiah 50: 4-7, Philippians 2: 6-11, Matthew 26: 14-27:66

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 09:40 AM.

March 08, 2008

Fifth Sunday of Lent - Never Forgotten

I know a retired friend who travels the back roads of the U.S., mostly in summers, visiting small towns, trying to get a sense and flavor of the people who have immigrated here over the many years.

One way he picks up this flavor of our history is by visiting cemeteries where, on tombstones, he often finds epitaphs, some humorous, some serious, that give him a sense of how the relatives of the deceased thought of him or her. I’ll quote just a few to give you a sense of it all. Sir John Strange: “Here lies an honest lawyer and that it is Strange is no business of yours.” “Here lies Lester Moore. Four slugs from a.44, no less no more.” On the 22nd of June Jonathan Fiddle went out of tune.” Margaret Daniels: “She always said her feet were killing her. Nobody believed her.” Harry Edsel Smith: Born 1903—Died 1942. “Looked up the elevator shaft to see if the car was on the way down. It was.” “Here lies an Atheist. All dressed up and nowhere to go.”

So, why am I sharing all these quotes with you? First of all, they are pretty funny. Sometimes the lives of the deceased are rather humorous. Even death itself, when you think about it, is sort of humorous. None of us wants to die and yet we have no control over it. As a humorist once said: “None of us will get off this planet alive.”

Part of the reason I also wanted to share these poetic verses with you is because I have a sense that none of us wants to die and be unremembered. Our relatives and friends want us to be remembered. So they print mortuary cards or long obituaries. After all, it does seem to me that every person born onto this earth was important to somebody and, hence, should be recalled, remembered, spoken-well and written well of. Of course, the deceased person himself or herself has no more control over that, but someone else, someone living has that option and they often make use of it.

Epitaphs, obituaries, et cetera also can give us a sense of the meaning our own lives and its shortness and its tenuousness. In short, the lives of the dead are often a lesson for the living.

Well, if you have the sense that epitaphs and obituaries are a modern invention, let me point out two examples, two pieces of writing, that are in the very scriptures for this Fifth Sunday of Lent. Let me point out also that they are resurrection stories because in our Church calendar we are nearing Holy Week and Easter.

The first story, or epitaph comes from the prophet Ezekiel. He has this vision where he sees scattered on the desert floor the bones of thousands and thousands of his fellow Israelites. But in his vision he also sees these bones being reattached one to the other by the power of God. He imagines all these reattached bones springing alive and returning back to their own land.

So, you see, this is a resurrection story, a prediction that death is never a total separation. Some day God will put us back together and gather us into our own land, the Kingdom of God.

The second epitaph or obituary story is about the only man in recorded history who died, was buried for three days and was brought back to life…Lazarus. If you believe in Jesus’ miracles, of course, as I do, you will have no difficulty with the details of the story. But if you don’t then some items may puzzle you: Where was Lazarus for those three days, on earth or in heaven? Did he ever tell anyone about the experience? Did he remember anything in the grave? How did he breathe? Did his body start to decompose, as Martha feared?

Well, those are useless question, useless because this is really more a resurrection story, not simply about dry bones or the dead Lazarus; it’s about all of us. The power of Jesus to bring Lazarus back from the dead is the power that Jesus will bring to bear for all who believe in him.

The interesting and mysterious feature about both these readings is that they assume the reality of death but tell us nothing about what follows except to say that death is not the end. We are all destined for a life beyond this one, whether, like Lazarus, we are in the grave three days or for a millennium.

The point that give me some hope is the sense that we are all remembered. Life is precious. For many of us, someone in this world will remember us after death, even if only on a grave marker. For all of us, our God will remember us. I just can’t imagine a God who has the power to create all things, simply allowing us to disappear from existence…period. I still believe in resurrection although what form it may take is still a mystery to me…perhaps to all of us.

The scriptures: Ezekiel 37: 12-4, Romans 8: 8-11, John 11 1-45

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 12:13 PM.

March 01, 2008

Fourth Sunday of Lent - Overlooking the Obvious

Several weeks ago my optometrist suggested that my eyesight was becoming as little cloudy and that it might be a good idea for me to have cataract surgery. At first it sounded pretty threatening. I didn't want anyone messing with my eyes unless it was absolutely necessary. I've had these eyes for a lot of years and they have served me well. But Dr. G assured me that it was not dangerous, that the operation would take only a short while and I would definitely see more clearly afterward. And so it was: I'm seeing things today I never saw before! Flat screen television never looked so beautiful. I think I can even read for longer times without becoming weary.

It occurred to me some while ago that of all the senses I would not want to be without, eyesight would surely hold first place. Smell, touch and hearing I could do without if necessary, but eyesight...it's something I use practically at every waking hour.

Whether I appreciate all that, of course, is another matter. Eyesight is always there, always available whenever I need it.

So, perhaps that is something to think about, namely that those human gifts that are simply "there" are often taken for granted.

But just think for a moment how intricate and complicated that human faculty and process of seeing truly is, not only the eye itself, but how it is connected to the brain, how we actually see and interpret what we are seeing. It's all a great mystery, the mystery of God's creative power.

Given all that, however, it also needs to be said that even though we claim 20/20 vision, it could be said that we often do not truly see. Perhaps the word understand or appreciate might be a better term. I know for a certain that there are many things I see very day and never think about fu the, even a beautiful sunset or the face of a child or the sight of children playing in a school yard, beautiful sights but never reflected on for contemplation.

I often take time to read Thomas Merton's diaries (Merton, the Trappist monk). He walked in the woods on his monastery grounds practically every day and every day he would notice something different in nature. He would comment on the weather for that day, for instance, pointing out that it was hot and muggy, sweaty and sticky or he would point out that the trees glistened with frost. He would write about how his sandaled feet felt walking over dry leaves. He noticed things that I surely never see, all the more to my loss, of course.

Perhaps it is true to say then that all of us suffer from some sort of non-physical myopia, lack of attention, lack of insight, lack of appreciation. So much in our daily experience escapes our understanding.

What is even more discouraging is that there are so many human events happening in this world every day that we pay so little attention to. Most of us read the daily newspaper or watch television news and perhaps we will notice certain world situations that are terribly distressing: On the day I wrote this homily the morning paper's headlines told us that five more U.S. soldiers were killed in Iraq, hundreds of Kenyan people were killing each other with rocks and machetes, Palestinian families were struggling to get across the border into Egypt so that could buy oil, medicine and food for their tables. I didn't even finish reading the articles. Isn't that interesting? I just said to myself: "Well, what can I do anyway. All that is on the other side of the world. Sadly, I did not even have any interior sense of compassion for those people. All this happens every day. What can you do? Well, you (I) can think about it, pray about it, let it sink into our consciousness. What if any of this should happen to me?

Given all this, there is a story in our gospel for this Sunday about someone who did care about blindness, Jesus of Nazareth; he saw the seriousness of it all and he did what he could in that situation. Jesus, obviously, did not cure every who appealed to him, but, for whatever reason, he did cure this young man.

The question to ask is not how did Jesus cure this man, but rather how can each of us heal like Jesus did? Obviously, we are not miracle-workers but perhaps we could learn better how to appreciate the humanity of the people I mentioned above, even though they may be thousands of miles apart from us. Every human person is precious in God's "eyes."

The second thing we might begin to see if we allow Jesus to heal our blindness is the overlooked population. They are the ones who are always there but often unseen because they do not count in anyone's eyes. These are the poor, the homeless, the hungry, the out-of-work, immigrants, the underemployed, the marginalized and the handicapped. Sometimes we are even forced to see them because they are obnoxious to us. They are always there, always disturbing our peace, always making us think.

And lastly, perhaps we could let Jesus heal our blindness if we tried deliberately to notice this day's natural beauty, whether of nature, of our work, or even of the little things we can't control, the things that disturb our peace. If we were simply to say, "thanks Lord for reminding me to notice that," that would be enough.

Finally, we must say that none of us chooses deliberately to be blind. It's just that we don't pay attention; so many other things in our lives distract us.

So, the next time you do notice something so beautiful that makes you gasp with awe and wonder, just say: "Thanks God. Now, help me keep my eyes open to all those other things in life that are not always so beautiful but are still somehow filled with sacred meaning.

The scriptures: I Samuel 16: 1,6-7, 10-13 Ephesisns 5: 8-14, John 9: 1-41

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 12:09 PM.