May 18, 2010

Solemnity of Pentecost [May 23, 2010]

The story is told of a heated argument between Napoleon Bonaparte, at the height of his power, and a certain Roman Catholic cardinal: “Your eminence,” Napoleon said, “are you not aware that I have the power to destroy the Catholic Church?” The cardinal, the anecdote goes, responded ruefully: “Your majesty, the Catholic clergy have done our best to destroy the Church for the last 1800 years. We have not succeeded and neither will you.”

Whether this conversation actually took place is anyone’s guess, but even a cursory look at Christian history will tell us that it could have. Despite its history of various heresies, controversies, schisms, scandalous lives of Renaissance popes, cardinals and bishops, dual papacies, sexual abuse of children by priests and religious leaders, despite all this, the Church of Jesus Christ, guided by God’s Spirit, continues to live and even thrive. Perhaps we must even look to ourselves and ask, “What have I personally done to build or annihilate our church?”

When one reflects on the life and history of our Church, it seems obvious that despite the many failures it has sustained, it remains strong and life giving.

The only answer to this human anomaly is found in the three scriptures, (Acts, Corinthians, John), the astonishing story of the descent of the Holy Spirit upon the early Christians. The community of Jesus disciples had no idea what they should do, or even if there was a future for them. Should they welcome gentile people into their Jewish ranks? How should they find the time to preach the good news and take care of domestic responsibilities such as caring for the poor, for widows and orphans? All this was beginning to bring discord into the community until that incredible day when God’s Spirit blew through their gathering and brought with it an insight into communal living that has never been extinguished. That movement of the Spirit endures until this very moment in history as a smoldering wick, always prepared to flame into action when the community itself shows the incentive to do the new, the original, the courageous, the issue that best describes the present situation in the world.

It should be remarked too that the Spirit is not simply a doer of remarkable things. The incentives for new life in the church comes from within the members themselves, people with new ideas, wild suggestions, brave original proposals that will enhance the life of the Church. For reasons of space, I could not even begin to name the millions of individuals, women and men, over the centuries who gave the Church new life just when it seemed as though it was failing for lack of nerve and fresh ideas.

The point is that the coming of the Holy Spirit was not meant as a one-time-only event in the Church’s history. If the Spirit could move the earliest believers in Jesus to overcome their reluctance to solve the huge problem of welcoming non-Jewish converts, could not the contemporary Church find ways to solve its many of the community problems we mentioned earlier. It is evident, for instance, that there are deep divisions in the Church today between traditionalists who wish to reform the reform of the Second Vatican Council and those who claim that we have not even broken the ice for new and fresh possibilities flowing from that Council. Do the two sides need to alienate and condemn one another? Is there not room for dialogue, for reasonable conversation? In short, the Spirit promised by Jesus as not time-limited; it still remains among us to this day. All that is needed for the Church to continue growing is for Christians to stop bickering and begin listening to the Spirit who, by the way, has never left us. To say it in another way: The Spirit cannot move without us. The Spirit is not the Church; it is simply the moving force beneath or behind the Church waiting to be called on to bring the Church into life when there are problems to be solved and issues to be settled. In short, the Spirit will not change the Church for the better unless we decide that we will cooperate with our own insights, visions, and dreams expectations.

Once again, we need to get over the idea that the coming of the Holy Spirit was a one-time moment or event in Christian history. It (she) still waits in every age to see whether or how modern Christians choose to solve their problems, how they will use their brains and good will to get at the issues that affect Christian living. I like to use the metaphor of the tiger lying in wait for prey, and when the right moment comes, it springs into action. So too it could be for each individual Christian living within the Church today. The answer to renewal is not to wait for the Spirit to make the first move, such as an ecumenical council, to go into action. All renewal is local just as all politics is local. All this means that the coming of the Holy Spirit is not simply historical; it is dynamic…always happening, that is, if it (she) can find Christians willing to take the risk of foreseeing the future and doing something about it…always with the Spirit’s inspiration of course.

The scriptures: Acts 2: 1-11; 1 Corinthians: 3b-7, 12-13; John 14: 8-17

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 10:20 AM.

May 10, 2010

Ascension of the Lord [May 16, 2010]

One of the most difficult things any of us has to do at a certain point in our life is to say “goodbye”, perhaps only for a few years, but in other instances, even for a lifetime. Once we have established a bonding with someone, such as children with their aging parents or a trusted professor who has helped us through college, having to break those personal bonds is almost counter to our natural instincts. We rarely choose to be separated permanently from anyone.

A death in the family, for that reason is always a wrenching experience.

So it was too for Jesus’ 12 best friends when he told them (perhaps in tears) that he was leaving them and returning to the Father(Going to Heaven). In their case, it was doubtless a more heartbreaking experience inasmuch as their entire lives, their past and their future were intimately tied up with this special person, Jesus of Nazareth. They had abandoned their life’s careers, perhaps their families and friends, to follow this itinerant preacher who claimed identity with God.

These, therefore, are the basic assumptions that provide the foundation for the liturgical feast we call The Ascension of the Lord. He had been executed for public disturbance and later was experienced by the 12 for a period of weeks; and now he breaks the news to them that he has completed his work and needs to return home.

So, the Church names this sad event “The Ascension of the Lord, the going up into the heavens. In one sense, the event might be better termed the Lord’s leave-taking, rather than his going up. Yet, the title Ascension in Christian usage is entirely appropriate. This seems so, not because heaven is “up” but because we imagine it is up. In a sense we cannot imagine that at death we will go “down” into the hell of the damned, nor can we say that we will go “out.” To go out implies infinity rather than a point in “place.”

All this may sound like philosophical nonsense, but in some sense, the word “up” in Hebrew-Christian history designates the place of God or the place of the gods. It also refers to the place of mystery. Even looking up into the skies gives one a sense of mystery, of infinitude, the place of the Holy One.

Historically, in Hebrew usage, God dwelt above the skies, the place of ultimate divinity. Earth, on he other hand, was the habitation of humankind, below the earth was the place of punishment, hell. We have many instances in biblical literature where the Israelites and other tribes as well, climbed hills, high places or mountains to worship God or their gods.

Spiritually too, we look up to God to offer praise. In the Eucharistic prayer we are invited to “lift up our hearts.” We respond: “We lift them up to the Lord.” It seems so natural to do this.

From a theological perspective, of course, Jesus does not need to go up. Going up simply signifies going home to the father. And where is the Father? The Father, in a human sense can only be up, above all that is earthly.

A final implication is that the Lord Jesus did need to leave and return to the place from which he came because, in his own words he makes it clear that he cannot remain here on earth any longer, otherwise the Holy Spirit cannot come and fulfill all that he (Christ) had accomplished.

Along with this is the implication that there was still much work to be done by the disciples and their successors, the Christians here on earth, you and I, and everyone who believes in the Lord Jesus Christ.

So, then, if nothing else, looking up is a sign of faith. Wherever the Lord Jesus must be, that is where our attention should also be, that is, in the place where the work of salvation is still in the process of completion. I can imagine Jesus saying to the disciples; “I’ve finished my part of he work; now you must finish it up. I’m outa here!

So long!

The scriptures: Acts: 1, 1-11; Hebrews 9:24-28, 10:19-23; Luke 24: 46-53

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 01:45 PM.

May 03, 2010

Sixth Sunday of Easter [May 9, 2010]

There is an interesting little piece of history that may help us put the scriptures of today’s liturgy into focus. It has been the custom in Christian Churches to give a “sneak preview” of important feasts as they appear in the liturgical calendar.
There is a reference, for instance, to the Holy Spirit in today’s scriptures, letting us know that in two weeks we will be celebrating the great feast of Pentecost, the end of the Fifty Days of Easter. So today the scriptures are already saying, “get ready the holy wind of God’s spirit is nearly upon us.”

Let us take a few moments then and think a little about God’s Spirit as it has appeared in a few important points in history outside of the scriptures themselves

Perhaps you will have noticed it in that lively little selection from the Acts of the Apostles that the fledgling community of Jesus was only a few years old and it was already experiencing the problem of exclusion, that is, the question of whether gentile members should have to undergo the ancient Jewish laws of enrollment before they could be accepted into the Christian assembly. So, the leadership held a vigorous discussion and at the end of it the apostles and the elders made this statement: “It is the decision of the Holy Spirit and of ourselves that no burden should be placed on you that is not strictly necessary.” He was referring to circumcision and the dietary customs of the Jews. And so it was, the suggestion passed, gentiles were welcomed, and history was made.

Today’s gospel is an instruction Jesus gave his disciples at the Last Supper. He knew that they were already worried about what lay ahead if he should be captured and killed. So, Jesus simply says, “My friends, have no fear, what we have accomplished together will continue under the guidance of God’s Spirit that I shall send you; He will teach you everything and remind you of all I have told you, just in case you should forget.”

Then the question arose, as to how all this should happen, how would the Spirit be recognizable? Well, we already know what happened: The Wind of God’s Spirit blew through them and nothing was the same after that. We know the story. Here we are together as Church, people of God built up from a few dozen of Christ’s disciples.

The question, however is this: If the coming of the Holy Spirit was meant not just for the early disciples, but for disciples of all ages, how will we recognize it? Where is the wind of Wind of God’s Spirit today? Well, let me suggest an answer to that by way of story, poetry, and existential experiences.

Many of you will remember Good Pope John XXIII, the bishop whom the cardinals in the Vatican elected because they thought he was too old to do much harm. However one night shortly after he was elected, he was lying in his bed and this thought came to him, as he tells it: “Hey, maybe we should call an ecumenical council of all the bishops throughout the world. Wouldn’t that be cool? The next morning, he knocks on his secretary’s door, Pietro Sambini, “Pietro, get your pen and writing pad. I am calling an ecumenical Council for the entire Catholic Church.” Pietro says: “Are you crazy? You know how these cardinals in Rome are? They don’t change anything other than their clothes and then only when necessary. Forget about it; it will only cause world chaos” “No,” the pope said, “In my bed last night, I heard the Holy Spirit tell me to call a council, and, believe me, Pietro, we are going to have a council. Enough! Start writing this letter to the Catholic Church.

Well, that is somewhat the way it happened. Pope John had his council and it turned out to be one of the most extraordinary events that happened in the Catholic Church in 500 years. In his first speech to the assembled bishops in St. Peter’s Basilica, he said something to the effect that the Catholic Church had to open windows that have been closed for too many years. We need to open them up and let in some fresh air.”

Well, let me suggest, my friends, that without a doubt the Council was a work of the Holy Spirit. It turned out that only a few conservative cardinals refused to cooperate and only a small minority of bishops today still hold back. From the day Pope John got out of bed and called in his secretary with the announcement, the Catholic Church has been a different institution; indeed many Christian Churches have changed along with us because of that great event. Fresh air, the wind of the spirit is still circulating through the churches.

The very fact that I am standing here in this church is a small sign that the wind of the spirit has made a difference.

Are there any other hints that the Spirit is still moving in the world and the Churches today? Let me suggest, for instance that wherever one finds truth, beauty and goodness, there we will find God’s Spirit dwelling.

As an example of this let me read for you a short piece of poetry from the pen of Gerard Manley Hopkins, the English Jesuit priest. It is entitled God’s Grandeur

The world is charged with the grandeur of God. It will flame out, like shining from shook foil.
It gathers to greatness, like the ooze of oil crushed;
Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge & shares man’s smell;
The soil is bare now, nor can foot feel being shod;
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs---
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast & with ah! bright wings.

That same Spirit moves through all people who are determined to work for truth, justice and charity among all, whether churched, unchurched, seekers, doubters, debaters, researchers, people of law and medicine, clergy, philosophers, teachers, ordinary folks of open mind and soul. There the Spirit dwells.

The Spirit also moves in the hearts of those who strive to find God in whatever seems ordinary, the common theophany of nature, the first smile of your little child, the last word of your beloved grandparent, the overwhelming sense that the universe is infinite and ultimately unknowable, all of those realities and more, are part of the Divine Spirit

Finally, I would like to read a quote that sums up all we have we have been trying to say thus far; It is a quote from Pope Paul VI given at the beginning of the second session of the great Vatican Council. Here is what he said: “The Church is a mystery. It is a reality imbued with the hidden presence of God.” Could it be then that the Church is more than its externals, more than its squabbles, more than its sad history? I do believe so. The Church is you and me, Catholics and Episcopalians, Christians of every stripe, with the strong wind of God’s Spirit pushing us, shoving us, pulling us until we finally get it right. When that time comes, my friends, we will finally be known as members of the kingdom that God has prepared for us from all eternity.

The scriptures: Acts 15:1-2,22-29; Revelation 21:10-14, 22-23; John 14, 23-29

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 09:40 AM.

April 28, 2010

Fifth Sunday of Easter [May 2, 2010]

My mother Cecelia died at an early age…in her forties as I recall. She was the mother of 8 healthy, happy children; I happened to be the eldest. The most personal memory I have of dear Cecelia is a very short conversation shortly before she died. Lying in her hospital bed, she stretched out her thin, feeble hand to me and said: “Lee, I cannot take care of you kids any longer. You are our oldest; I want you to promise me that you will take care of your brothers and sisters when I am gone.” I could hardly imagine what life would be like if she were gone, but, amidst some tears, I said, “Yes, Ma, I’ll sure try. I had no idea how this promise would be kept (I was a high school freshman) but I was so proud that she would ask me. Those were the last words I remember her saying to me before she died. Without doubt the last words of anyone who is dying are especially unforgettable.

I am sure that those of you who are reading this will have lasting memories of your own father or mother’s last words. No doubt, they will also have special meaning for you; we all have personal feelings for those we love.

Now, this is a bit of a jump, but the gospel of John you have been hearing for the past several Sundays is a remembrance by Jesus friends of his final words at the Last Supper, the night before he died. (Don’t ask me how the disciples could have remembered all those words!) They must have been important to the disciples to be remembered. Obviously, these men were not relatives of Jesus, but he called them his friends, his compatriots, the ones who had traveled with him and heard his words during all those previous months.

At that Last Supper, therefore, Jesus made a rather strange remark; he called it a command. “I give you a commandment that you must love one another as I have loved you.” Now, I suspect that most of us take that phrase as a pious saying that can only be understood in Hebrew, or could be used by Jesus because he is God!
Rarely do people, even lovers, command their friend to love them. Even more rarely do men use such phrases regarding other men

Let me suggest, however, that this is not simply an emotional outburst by Jesus at a moment when he knew his end was near. It is a love that far outreaches human love. In some sense, Jesus was saying: “Friends, I call you friends because we have gone through hell together, you and I. We have seen some astonishing things during these months that have never been seen before. We are on the edge of something big: I have called it God’s kingdom, the kingdom of God in this world. I mean for this work of ours to continue until the end of time. I warn you though, there will be times when you may want to give it up and go back to fishing and money changing or whatever. But until now you have cast your lot in with me to extend this ministry. So, I tell you, in the deepest sense, that you are loved. I have given you all that I have. Be well, fear not; I will be with you until the end of time. Remember too: you must love one another as brothers in ministry. If you do not, all that we have begun together will be for nothing.”
It is in this sense that I think Jesus spoke when he said that he loved his friends to the end.

All of this is rather difficult for us to understand, mainly because we seldom enter into a life-project with a friend except in the case of the sacrament of marriage.

The project Jesus was beginning was meant to spread out to the ends of the earth. We know all of that today, of course. Some men like Paul and Barnabas (mentioned in the first reading) and hundreds of others did carry out Jesus plan unto the ends of our lives.

So, what is the implication of all this for the Christian of the twenty first century? For those of us who claim the label Christian, Jesus has also given us a commandment. It comes to us through the lives of millions of Christians who have gone before us, fought for the faith, gave their lives so that it would not fail.

It has often occurred to me that Christians today do not have the same “tightness of faith” that the early Christians did. For the most part we do not need to fight for our faith like many Christians throughout the early centuries did. Oh, we go to Mass, we receive the sacraments, we keep the commandments. Isn’t that enough to keep us Christian? That is the feeling among some Catholics and Christians. “We belong to the Church,” they say, “as many others belong to the Knights of Columbus, the Optimists or the Elks. We pay our dues and pray our prayers.”

If we take the command of Jesus to his friends as a model for today’s Christian, it seems clear that we are called to something more than “church on Sunday” and the sacraments when it is handy. The kingdom of Jesus demands more than that of us.

The final point I believe is this: No matter in what age we live, if we are Christians it is assumed that we are friends of Jesus, and if we are friends, then that last command at the Last Supper is addressed to us as well.

All I can say is that it is nice to know that we have someone who has loved us for all these many years. Jesus is a man of his word even in the year 2010.

The scriptures: Acts 14: 21-27; Revelation: 1-5a; John 13: 31-33, 34,35

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 02:23 PM.

April 20, 2010

Fourth Sunday of Easter [April 25, 2010]

Let me share with you an odd piece of memorabilia about my life as a young Christian. In the last few years of the 19th century and into the early years of the 20th century there was an immense influx of farm folk from Europe: Russia, the Ukraine, Germany, even the Scandinavian countries. They chose to settle in the Great Plains where rich farmland was readily available at minimum cost.

And so it was that Swedes, Norwegians, Germans, Ukrainians, and a few Irish settled the rich lands of central North Dakota. Few became rich, but it was a way of life.

It was among such folks, that we, a German immigrant family lived. Generally speaking, the relationships between the various ethnic groups were cordial and supportive.

In the matter of religious affiliation, however, there was certain “clannishness.” Rarely did our family attend another church. Our pastor forbade us even to attend non-Catholic weddings or funerals. From the pulpit our pastor made it clear that we were to stay in our own church. “Those folks don’t belong to us,” he said.“ Obviously, we were obedient Catholics. Nonetheless, such restrictions seemed harsh to us because, in the secular realm everyone got along so well.

As I remember those times, it is my sense that the interreligious restrictions were meant for spiritual protectionism: Our pastors were frightened that if there were inter-marriages it would mean a decrease in membership. After all, we were a small Catholic enclave.

After reading the scriptures retelling the stories of the growth and progress of the early Church, it became clearer to me why our pastors, all in good intent, warned us to stay away from people who actually were our friends.

The point is that one’s religion has a tendency to bond us to one another. We are all of the same belief and practice. We all know “how to act in church.” This means, of course, that have learned the creed, the meaning of the Eucharist, the common prayers. Knowing all this gave one a sense of protection. Other Christians also had their customs, but they were not ours.

The liturgies that follow the great festival of Easter trace out for us how the early Christians gradually banded together under one creed and one form of worship. They were, early on, a small group, or several small groups, depending on what part of the Middle East they lived. They discovered early on, with the help of Paul’s preaching that if they clung to one another, their faith would remain constant and reliable.

So, where did this sense of bonding originate? We read of it, of course, in Luke’s gospel where Jesus addresses his followers as his sheep and himself as their shepherd. If they will follow his Gospel, his good news, they will be safe from harm. It was from this assurance of Jesus that the leadership of the early church soon developed: Apostles, teachers, prophets, preachers, healers, deacons, elders, et cetera.

One can recognize the need for leadership even in the Catholic Church today. Loyal Catholics know what it means to belong to one another, with the pope as our shepherd and our local pastors as caretakers. We may not always feel comfortable with hierarchical structures, but at least we know to whom we may go if we feel lost in this confusing secular world. It is often said that no matter where Catholics travel, they will feel at home if they worship in their own Church.
This is not to say that non-Catholic churches are dangerous; it is simply that we know who our religious confreres are, who speak the same words of faith, which know the words of worship.

Happily, our relationship with non-Catholics and non-Christians is far more cordial and understanding than in times in which I grew up. I, like many others, feel completely comfortable worshiping with other communities. Nonetheless, we know that Holy Apostles, Saint Matthew’s, Saint Henry’s, Saint Leo’s, Saint Peter’s and Saint Paul’s parishes are still our personal, permanent home. If we go there, no one can turn us away. We are sheep of the Eternal Shepherd, members of one faith and one worship. Well, it just feels good, meeting folks on the Lord’s Day who think and believe as we do. If you go there, you will know what I mean.

The scriptures: Acts 13: 14, 43-52; Revelation 7: 9, 14b-17;
John 10: 27-30

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 10:56 AM.

April 12, 2010

Third Sunday of Easter [April 18, 2009]

Of all the words in human languages that engage our interests in different ways and for different reasons, the word love must surely stand in first place. In some sense it represents our deepest feelings toward another, and in another sense it is used to cover almost any human emotion: Love my Lexus, love my Blackberry, love my black Labrador retriever, love my million dollar job. And somewhere in that list we may also casually say, “Oh yes, and I love my wife, love my husband, and love my kids. But we all know down deep in our heart that we don’t really love that Blackberry. We may be attached to it and it may serve our purposes, it may make our life simpler, but if we say that we truly love that small black instrument, our values a little askew.

Love is a serious word: It conveys the sense that we would be willing to give up all else for the sake of the person or persons who have cast their lot in with us.

In a short blog that I do every two weeks for The Catholic Anchor, that respected Catholic news source for the folks in the Archdiocese of Anchorage, I wrote a short piece about Jazz. I “love” Jazz (see there?) and one particular artist in particular, John Coltrane (of happy memory). His music is what some of the young adult set call “truly cool.” I bring up his name because of a four-part creation called “A Love Supreme.” It is truly a supreme piece of work. I have listened to it many times.

And then, one day a friend of mine pointed out to me that A Love Supreme was a psalm expressing Coltrane’s sorrow for his careless habits of life and as praise piece to God for rescuing him from himself. I pulled up the words of the piece on Google and found them truly beautiful, full of sadness and pathos, but of deep-spirited joy as well.

I wanted to bring up Mr. Coltrane precisely because of the words in the song: “God’s supreme love for us.”

There is a similar story of love in the gospel for this Third Sunday in Easter season. It is that lovely conversation between Jesus and Peter that occurred a short while after Jesus’ resurrection. Jesus had just provided Peter and his friends a fine seaside breakfast of grilled toast and fish. Then after the meal, Jesus casually asks Peter. “Peter, do you love me? Three times he asks Peter the question, an almost exact repetition of Peter’s three-fold denial of is teacher shortly before Jesus death? After the third question, “Do you love me,” Jesus adds: “Peter, feed my sheep,” that is, “care for this flock that has followed me.”

Did Peter really understand the question? Did he know what Jesus meant by the word love? I suspect not, but years later it became clear to him that love meant going the distance, being willing to die for his teacher and the good news he taught. It is an example of A Love Supreme, being willing to make the supreme sacrifice if he were called to it.

I truly believe that this short conversation between Jesus and Peter is one of the most beautiful examples of love between two strong-willed men that I have ever read. I am surprised that it has not been set to music.

The lesson in all this, I believe, is that we are all called to A Love Supreme, a full dedication not to precious things, but to precious people who have been given to us for “caretaking.” In some sense we are all entrusted with the life of others. We all need some special responsibility in our lives, something that will give us joy, simply because we are entrusted to do great tasks for God and for those who have cast their lot in with us for a lifetime. Believe me, It will eventually turn into a Joy Supreme.

The scriptures: Acts 5: 27-32, 40 b; Revelation 5: 11-14; John 2: 11-19

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 10:21 AM.

April 05, 2010

Second Sunday of Easter [April 11, 2010]

It has often occurred to me, now in the eighth decade of my life, that the career I have chosen is in some sense rather odd. Of course, it is true, priests and ministers have a place in the network of human careers. But at the same time, I often ask myself what good have I done, what difference have I made in world. One never knows, of course, because the career of religious individuals always tends to be private and hallowed.

Nonetheless, I often ask myself whether I have been able to contribute more to the human community if I had chosen the to follow the career of a doctor, an astrophysicist, a psychologist or any career where research in all matters possible is a common assumption. Nonetheless, I am content with the Spirit that has led me to this point in my history.

Joseph Campbell, the famous philosopher of comparative mythology once said: “Follow your bliss and you will never need to work another day in your entire life. I have found that to be at least partially true: I have followed my bliss but it is still rewarding
to work for a living.

On this Second Sunday in Easter season we read the well-known words of the apostle Thomas (“the doubter”) who asserted that he would not believe that Jesus had risen unless he could touch the wounds in his hands and side. The issue I want to explore, therefore, is what I call the human desire to be in touch with the world, the human, the body and with all things physical. We find it hard to believe in mystery unless we can actually prove its existence by research, study, dissection and analysis.

Think of the continuing work of physicians, astrophysics, metaphysicians (philosophers), and even theological and biblical scholars. Think of the progress that has been made in medicine because certain scientists did not cease exploring the cause of human diseases. Would we have made our way to the moon and discovered outlying planets unless some scientist had continued to research the mysteries of outer space?

My point here is that there seems to be an inherent desire in the human mind or soul to solve mysteries, to find out what makes life in the world to be the way it is. It seems that even most ordinary folks like ourselves believe that there is still something beyond what we have already discovered, that there is a mystery “out there” waiting to be solved.

In some sense, we humans seem to realize that the world we inhabit still contains elements not yet solved. Therefore we will go to any length to find out what that mystery is. Our hankering will not subside until we have an answer to mystery. It seems to be part of our very nature. In some sense we believe that reality is endless. There is still more “out there” that is ripe for discovery. In short, we are restless until we have come up with a rational answer to our query.

So, this is where the assertion of Thomas the apostle comes in: “I will not believe until I can place my hand in his side and my finger in the wounds of his hands and side.” You see, Thomas is dealing here with a mystery. How can a man who was once certified as dead now be alive? A reasonable question! Thomas is like the rest of us: we want proof for what seems to be a mystery. There has to be answers to unsolved questions. In the case of Thomas, it was a matter of determining how a dead man had come back to life, a reasonable enough quest.

One last issue, however that I believe will give Thomas the Apostle his deserved right to be a “doubter”. He was simply a man doing what any reasonable person would do in such a situation: Dead people do not rise, period. There was no reason for him to believe the word of his confreres. They were no more intelligent than he. Why should he put his faith on the line in such a frivolous issue? He had not been asked to do such a thing in his entire life, why now? Nonetheless, when he was given the opportunity to solve the mystery, he was more than willing to do so.

Ah, but there is still one small matter deserving of attention: There are mysteries in this universe that will remain just that, mysteries. Perhaps the most obvious one that comes to mind is the question asked by the German philosopher, Ludwig Wittgenstein: “why is there something and not nothing?” Why anything at all? Did there have to be a universe, as we know it? That, of course, asks the question of God. We assume that God is the answer but there is no proof of it. That is why individuals in this world continue to put their minds to the test and determine whether there is a reason for anything at all. If there is no such reason, we are on the edge of chaos, chaos of the mind. At that point the question of God becomes irrelevant; fortunately, most of us are willing to do what Thomas did, place our faith on the assumption that there is a God who loves us and is not disturbed when we honor Him by admitting our ignorance and putting our money on faith.

The scriptures: Acts 5: 12-16; Revelation 1: 9-11, 12-13, 17-19;
John 20: 19-31

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 11:50 AM.

March 29, 2010

Easter Sunday [April 4, 2010]

I have a friend, a confrere in the Congregation of Holy Cross, who is a fine painter and an art teacher. I watched him paint one day and, when he decided to take a break, I asked him whether he had any notion in his mind how the painting would look when it was completed. He said, “well before I put a brush to canvas, I have some idea of what I want it to look like, but only gradually does this mental picture become a reality. I think there was a point before I began when I had this tremendous insight, this mystery of the finished product and as I continued to paint, it gradually became clearer to me.

But at times, I also began to wonder if my vision was true. Many a time, I have brushed out certain sections of the work, because my insight became clearer and clearer as I went along. But I never forgot my original insight, my idea of what I wanted this painting to be. Would it compare with Picasso or Cezanne or some other famous artist? I doubt it. But gradually I had to convince myself that it did not make any difference whether my painting looked like the works of any of those great men. I had to stick with my own vision; and usually, I was happy with the result. But I must tell you I have never painted anything that I could say was truly finished, perfect; nothing in this world is perfect, everything is in process of becoming”

I have thought a lot about that conversation and now I think of it as a kind of parable or an analogy of the Resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth.

There was once a time in my life as a priest and theologian when I struggled to make sense out of Jesus’ rising from the dead and how I might make it part of my faith life and help others do the same.

I have long since decided to give up the effort to theologize about the resurrection. There is neither saint nor a theologian in all of history who has been able to explain the happening by itself, the reason being that resurrection is both an event and a mystery. Better perhaps to say that it is an event that is at the same time mystery.

My suspicion is that no two people, either in ancient times or in the modern age have the same sense of what the resurrection means.

What each of us does have, however, is a dream, an image, and an analogy of what it originally might have been and is today. That is as close as one can come to mystery. Each of us imagines it in our own unique way, but we are also part of a community that believes together that Christ is truly risen.

This is the experience that the early Christians had on the first Easter Sunday morning. The women who were part of Jesus retinue discovered that the body was gone but had no idea how it happened. They simply believed that he was still living.

I would like to believe that all people, at least all Christians, have this same experience. The public word (gospel) of centuries tells them this event happened, but we are not utterly disturbed if we do not understand it immediately.

What happens, I believe, is that we gradually come to a measure of peace with resurrection without being able to explain it. What happens is that we can claim that we have had resurrection experiences of our own or have heard of such occurrences happening to others

We realize that resurrection analogies happen all the time: Children are born to those who thought that such was not possible. People recover from cancer; Spring springs forth every “spring.” We escape from depression by pure effort. We miss a near accident.

These are merely analogies or metaphors of resurrection, likenesses, events in which we detect new life springing up. In some cases we might even call them miracles. In some sense, I believe that faith in the resurrection is literally built into our genes. We cannot disbelieve the fact of it in our lives.

Did this intuition happen all of a moment? No, we became more and more aware of it as time went on. It is similar to the insight of the painter. He has a vision of some object when he begins, but it only comes nearer to reality as he looks at it again. I must confess that a similar experience is happening to me as I write. When I set the first keystroke to this piece, I had a vague vision of resurrection, but as I continued pounding away at the keys, the mystery became clearer to me.

Finally, It must be true of all of us that we have our own unique sense of the sacred character of this day. Why do we get dressed up specially, why a festive dinner, why do we participate in the liturgy with gladness and joy? I think it has something to do with our subconscious sense that resurrection is true and even if we do not understand it, it is still too important not to celebrate it.

The scriptures: Acts 10 3-4, 37-42; 1 Corinthians 5: 6-8; Luke 24: 1-12

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 11:07 AM.

May 27, 2009

Pentecost [May 31, 2009]

Wind and fire: They are no doubt the most fascinating elements on our planet. There will be a fierce desert wind somewhere today. There may be a forest fire somewhere in the California foothills. Some people will be happy to sit around a campfire keeping themselves warm against a cold night wind. We take all this for granted, of course; it’s all part of the complex nature of the universe.

It must be said, of course, that all things that are also have meaning. Scientists may not ask the question of meaning because they have done their work and they can tell you why fire burns and wind blows. Perhaps there is nothing fascinating for them about natural elements. (Of course, I may be wrong; perhaps scientists think more deeply about wind and fire than even metaphysicians or contemplative monks.) At any rate, my hunch is that most folks in the modern world make little time for contemplation. They take the elemental forces in the universe for granted.

Not so our ancient ancestors, particularly our ancestors in the faith, people from the Middle East, the Hebrews in particular.

Here are several clear references to fire in the Old Testament: God, in the burning bush, cited in Exodus summoned Moses to reveal his name YHWH. It was sacred fire, of course. Moses took off his shoes in the presence of the Holy as many Arabs still do today.

A pillar of fire led the Israelites during the night in their escape from Egypt. A fire burning on Mt. Sinai announced the presence of God.

You see, all these might have been natural phenomena, but the Hebrews found meaning in them, sacred meaning.

As an aside, it has always seemed to me that nature provides a fine opportunity to experience wonder: Sunsets, sunrises, rainbows, cloud formations, et cetera. They all exist, of course, but they also have a unique meaning for each individual viewer.

Wind or winds have also held a prominent part in Jewish history and faith. Early on, in the Book of Genesis, wind is felt sweeping over the primordial waters to bring forth life that signified the presence of God.

In various other places in the Old Testament wind was interpreted as the breath of God, a sign of God’s spirit. We all know, of course, the story of how Adam was brought to life: God breathed air into him.

For those Israelites leaving Egypt across the Sea of Reeds, a strong East wind assisted them on their journey.

Prophets, Elijah and Ezekiel are caught up into the heavens with a whirling wind.

For the Israelites, therefore, wind is not a threat but the sacred force of God assisting his people.

Given all these references to wind and fire in the Jewish bible, it is not unlikely that we might find them mentioned in the Pentecost event spoken of by Luke in the gospel and in Acts. This was the moment in human history when the Holy Spirit moved, not over the waters, but over the lives of some followers of Jesus in the form of wind and fire and from that moment on the history the world has not been the same.

The effect of that fire and wind was to spark the disciples into action, that is, to spread the good news of Jesus to the far corners of the earth. Did it work? Take a look and see where Christianity can be found on the planet today.

From that moment forward, then, the message of God ceased to be solely a Jewish possession. Parochialism was now a thing of the past. Everyone far and wide would feel the brunt of that wind and fire. We, obviously, are the recipients of that great force here and now.

So what does Pentecost mean to us? How does wind and fire affect the contemporary Church? Here is what a contemporary theologian says: “Wind and fire remind us that ours is a church that is characterized by mobility and not stasis, by charism rather than constraint, by ecstasy rather than by retrenchment. Wind and fire blow and breathe and burn with an energy that cannot be quenched. Wind and fire attest to the difference the Jesus movement has made, is making and should make in the world.”

Of course, sacred wind and fire will never have any effect in the world unless we Christians, you and I, feel that wind in our face and that fire in our bellies and are determined to carry that good news of Jesus to the far corners of the world….well, at least around the block, or around the neighborhood. It has to start somewhere, right? But once you catch the spirit, there is no stopping it. You know how it is: Once they get out of control, no one knows where they will stop, which, of course, is as it should be.

The scriptures: Acts 2: 1-11; 1 Corinthians 12: 3-7; John 20: 19-23

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 09:43 AM.

May 19, 2009

Ascension [May 24, 2009]

Well, let me start right off by telling you that this feast of the Ascension of the Lord is a very difficult feast for me to understand. I’ve struggled with it for years, but I think that this year I may have solved my problem.

First off, it starts with the word “up.” Now, that is only a two-letter word, but a very puzzling word in itself. You might think that up is up, right? But listen how it is often used. The sun comes up, we wake up, we wash up, we speak up, we work up an appetite, we lock up the house; we look up a word, we add up our accounts, someone tells us to lighten up if we have stirred up trouble. And now, in today’s gospel, Mark says that Jesus was taken up into the heavens to be seated at the right hand of God.

It was from that one word used three times in today’s scriptures, that we derive the title of this splendid feast, the feast of the Ascension. So you see how I struggle with all this?

But let me insist immediately that I do believe Jesus Christ was taken up into the heavens. How he was taken up I do not know. What does help though are some other words: Jesus returned to the Father. Jesus reigns with the Father; Jesus Christ sits at the right hand of the Father. So, that helps me not to have to imagine Jesus going up into the skies like a NASA spacecraft or an Atlas Booster. I think those analogies are much too simplistic to compare to Christ’s sacred experience.

If I had my way, I would change the title of the feast from Ascension to Homecoming, or The Last Instruction, or The Great Commissioning. That’s what I would title it, and for this reason. There are actually only three references to “going up” in the scriptures for this feast, one in the Acts of the Apostles and two in the gospel. The main body of the scripture text has to do with other things: In those last few hours Jesus was with the disciples, he consoled them, he promised the Holy Spirit, he instructed them, he gave them spiritual powers, assigned certain ministries, et cetera. So, all those seem more important than wondering what going up means

Ah, but there is one more important element in this story. Jesus gave certain tasks to the apostles before leaving. My sense is that those assignments were meant for the Church. In other words, the last thing Jesus did was to make sure that the Church would not fail. So, he empowered the apostles to teach, preach, baptize and heal after he had gone. Most importantly, however, he told them that they must be witnesses to all that he had said and done.

Now, I am assuming, of course, that this witnessing that Jesus assigned the apostles was meant for us as well. In fact, Paul, in the Ephesian letter, even says so. It was not meant to be a hierarchical gift only, but a gift of the Spirit for all the baptized, you and me, dedicated lay folks, clerics, religious, everybody. How else should the Church survive throughout history? We are a human Church with divine gifts. “Go into the whole world” Jesus says, “and preach the good news to all creation.
I’m sure I could go on, but my time is up, so I will wrap it up for now and simply shut up.

The scriptures: Acts 1: 1-11; Ephesians 1: 17-23; Mark 16: 15-20

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 10:22 AM.

May 14, 2009

Sixth Sunday of Easter [May 17, 2009]

Here is a nice little piece of useless knowledge that you have been waiting to hear all your life-long. It is said that there are some three trillion references to love on the Internet. Don’t ask me who said so. It may just be someone’s guess. (Who cares?)

Nonetheless, outside of the so-called secular world, one version of the bible itself cites the word love over eight hundred times. Again, don’t ask me who counted.

In two of our scripture selections for this Sixth Sunday of Easter, love is mentioned eight times. In this case I counted them myself, if that means anything.

However, if numbers do mean anything at all, and I think they do, then the word love must be important to the human race. Perhaps it’s more than a word; perhaps it is even an intricate element of our human nature.

As a starter, if you read the selection from The First Letter of John in today’s liturgy and the words of Jesus quoted in the gospel, you will see immediately that the theme of these post-Easter liturgies is love.

When I first read them, I said to myself, I wish they would define it for me or, at least, tell me in what context they are using the word. But, you see, they just throw the word out there and assume that we all know what they are talking about, that we all have the same definition for it. That’s frustration, at least for me, because it means that I have to search for the meaning for myself and hope I am not interpreting Jesus’ use of the word wrongly.

At any rate, let me start this way: As I was sitting in the sun on our back patio, jotting down some notes to get started with this homily, I was listening to a beautiful song by Anne Murray on my Ipod. It is entitled: “Life, don’t run out on me.” So, I stopped for a moment and said, “Hey, maybe that’s it; maybe we spend our whole life, from the first breath we take until 2 minutes before we die, longing for that one thing in life that will mean something to us, something I would describe as our heart’s desire. And throughout our entire life, then, we struggle to realize that one thing, hoping that life and time will not run out on us.

Think about this: The tiniest baby longs for the mother’s breast,’ that’s its ultimate desire; the five year old wants its own way. The teenager longs for the girl or boy who will be his heart’s desire, at least for this week. The young man or woman goes to college, hoping to secure a six-figure job when he or she graduates, that’s the hearts desire? He or she ultimately marries the one who will complement the other. Bernie Madoff and lots of others swindle millions of people out of their savings, imagining that this money could end up being their heart’s desire. Now some are in prison, too bad.

Finally, we reach old age and we know that death is closer than we ever imagined it could be. There is nothing more to long for and yet, is it not true, that no one longs to die. (As Zorba the Greek says in Kazantzakis novel: “A man like me should live forever.” Do not each one of us want to live forever or at least as long as we can, in case there is just one more possibility that could fulfill our heart’s desire?

The interesting and mysterious point in all this is that none of us really and ultimately understands what we are searching for; we do not understand our heart’s desire; hence we keep searching throughout life, moving from one false start to another.

I have often wondered if any of us will ever die fully happy, fully satisfied and convinced that we have now realized our heart’s desire.

You may say: What’s all this have to do with love? Well, this is no definitive answer, obviously, but love seems to be that element in human life that directs us to something that will satisfy us, give us full happiness, ultimate gratification.

The huge dilemma, however, is this: The human soul is never satisfied. This temporary human object of my love will never be enough. The soul is always hungry for more, whatever “more” is.

I don’t know if there is any solution to this longing, but my sense is that if we can manage throughout our life to direct our longing to the other, to that other person or cause rather imagining that we can ultimately satisfy ourselves, perhaps that would be enough.

I think that is why Jesus is such a beautiful example of this: His whole life, all he said, all he did, all he died for was done for us, for the human race. He had no selfish, personal intent. He lived and died for us…the other.

I am even confident enough to say that Jesus was probably the only person in the world’s history who died happily. Hanging on the cross, he had finally found his heart’s desire.

So, then, weak as we humans are, distracted as we are by worldly desires, it might be well occasionally to ask ourselves whether this one achievement, this moment in our personal history is what we are ultimately searching for and in which we will find fulfillment. My hunch is that we will probably go on wondering about all this until the Lord calls us to our final heart’s desire, his kingdom where love is all there is.

The Scriptures: Acts 10: 25-26; 1 John 5: 1-6; John 15: 9-17

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 02:09 PM.

May 04, 2009

Fifth Sunday of Easter - [May 10, 2009]

I am unashamed to say that I have been a subscriber to The National Catholic Reporter for close to thirty years. The NCR, as it is commonly known, was first founded by a group of young adult Catholic laymen; hence the second line on the main page says that it is a lay catholic weekly (bi weekly these days, given the economy).

At any rate, being edited and published by lay people, one can expect less surveillance and supervision by the hierarchy. Some may say that this could put the “Catholicity of the paper into question. Others will say, predictably, that it’s the only way to get to objectivity in the news.

Having said all that, I want to add that Catholic news events seem to be popping faster than a bi-weekly Catholic newspaper can absorb them.

Hence, in recent times one must access Catholic news on NCR on line because they occur so rapidly. Indeed, several major Catholic news events may occur within the space of one hour.

I wanted to preface this homily with that piece of information because of the number of disquieting Catholic events that have happened around the world over the past several weeks.

A short description of each event will need to suffice: First, the sexual scandal within the religious community called the Legionnaires of Christ. Secondly, the schismatic Catholic group calling itself The Society of Pius X has separated itself from Rome over issues of the Second Vatican Council. Third, the scandal concerning Bishop Williamson, an Englishman (a member of the Society of Pius X) who claims that the numbers of Jews killed in the Holocaust was much fewer than reported. Thirdly, and some few years ago, the Vatican initiated an investigation of American seminaries for irregularities. Finally, just today (April 15, 2009) the Vatican launched an investigation of alleged irregularities of LCWR, (Leadership Conference of Women Religious) the elected group that represents roughly 95% of American religious sisters.

In addition to such disturbing major issues there are also serious issues noted in the NCR of Catholic individuals who are censured by a local ordinary (bishop) for “irregularities”.

I make no judgment on any of these issues, but what seems evident to me is that there is an increasing number of individuals or groups, initially Roman Catholic, who have broken from the center of the faith. Of course, there have always been such “uprisings” in the Church, all of which seems to indicate that Jesus’ explicit desire for one flock, one shepherd that we read of so clearly in this Sunday’s gospel, is far from fully realized. Even the earliest days of the apostolic church had its unique differences of opinion and practice.

On the other hand, if our Church is to be described as one, holy, Catholic and apostolic, such historical separations from the core of our Church can hardly be beneficial to the Body of Christ.

Personally, I would consider it a privilege and a responsibility to belong to the community that Christ founded even though I may have my share of differences with its leadership. Jesus is still the vine and we are the branches whether we consider ourselves grapes, oranges, apples red-hot chili peppers or whatever.

It is unity that will make us strong. Nothing is accomplished by formally or informally separating ourselves from Christ’s church. Personally speaking, I would feel rather lonely out there in the world if I did not have the Church to support me. But does that stop me, or any Catholic, from speaking out regarding critical issues that affect us in the Church or the world today? I would hope not. If we consider ourselves branches of the vine that is Christ we should consider it a right to appeal to the vine. I can imagine Jesus Christ saying: Hey, that’s okay; we’re part of one another, right?

Scriptures: Acts 9: 26-31; 1 John 3: 18-24; John 15: 1-10

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 11:05 AM.

April 30, 2009

Fourth Sunday of Easter - [May 3, 2009]

I have always had a secret respect for the members of those religious groups, Mormons, Seven Day Adventists and others that have the courage and the patience to go door to door and invite the householder to accept a piece of literature or sit and listen to a description of their religious beliefs. Actually, I have never allowed them beyond my doorstep even in winter’s chill. For sure at this point in my Catholic life I’m not thinking about changing sides, no matter how attractive that religion may sound.

Father Andrew Greeley, writer and sociologist, once said that it is rare that Catholics will give up their faith and practice. They simply love their church and its unique sacramental “system”, that is, the signs and symbols that speak of the sacred: Bread, wine, oil, salt, palms, ashes, foot washing, anointing at baptism laying on of hands at confirmation and priesthood and all the rest. These natural signs are literally ground into our very Catholic being from the moment of our baptism. We love natural things, he says, and we will refuse to do without them.

I have often thought about how I would feel if I were to switch religions. I’m sure I would never be comfortable with that. There would be something missing that has kept me happy all of my 84 years.

Now, this is not to say that other Christian religions are second rate to our Catholic faith. I’m sure such folks are truly dedicated people. It’s just that I could never abandon something so precious that was handed on to me by my parents and ancestors going back more years than I can count. No one is going to take that away from me. Without it, life would have no meaning.

Think about all that for a moment as you read Peter’s words in this Sunday’s first reading. Here he is, Peter, a faithful Jew his entire life, even after he met Jesus. He is giving a homily and telling a gathering of Jews Greeks and others: “There is no salvation in anyone else nor is there any other name under heaven given to the human race by which we are to be saved.” I wonder how all that came down for those folks.

What seems obvious is that Peter is saying: “Folks, we can all be a blended family, Jesus Christ has made us one.”

Interestingly, of course, that is precisely what happened: It was t this moment in history that at least some Jews and many non-Jews began to follow the disciples of Jesus, began to build the church upon the Corner Stone we name the Christ.

It is interesting to note the body of the faithful that gathers in Catholic churches each Lord’s Day and see a cross section of humanity, people of all cultures. Could it be true that Jesus’ wish that there be one flock and one shepherd was finally coming to be?

A Catholic theologian recently commented on the “one flock, one shepherd” phrase by saying: “Christ laid down his life for all God’s sheep and every member of the human community without regard for their ethnicity, age, gender or worthiness. Jesus envisioned a blended family for which he gave his life as one flock and one shepherd.”

True enough, not all folks on the face of the earth are Catholic today, but they are all believers nonetheless, each in their own way, all under the “safety net “of Christ whether they know it to be true or not.

Speaking for myself only, I have always felt safe in Christ’s church, the faith my ancestors passed on to me. And, by the way, I promise to be nice to all those good Mormons or Seven Day Adventists when they come to my door. Christ is their shepherd too. I truly hope they know that.

The scriptures: Acts 4: 8-12; 1 John 3: 1-2; John 10: 11-18

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 09:25 AM.

April 20, 2009

Third Sunday of Easter - [April 29, 2009]

A few days ago I was sitting in our library here at the house paging through a history of the opening of the “ West.” The text, along with old black and white photographs described the tough and gritty lives of the settlers: Folks standing outside their sod houses in their “Sunday best,” people at country fairs, people having frontier fun, farmers turning over the sod.

One chapter, however, graphically describes the common method of capital punishment in those times, death by hanging. Some of the victims were obviously “gun-slingers” stagecoach robbers, outlaws of various sorts.

Several other photos, however, showed the hanging of several Negro runaway slaves. Obviously, this punishment was common practice in post-Civil War days in order to defer others from doing the same.

But get this: What astonished me was the crowd of people witnessing the “event.” This could have been a Sunday afternoon outing. Some, (including many children) sat on the grass having their picnic lunches, eagerly waiting the final moment of the drop. The people did not seem disturbed or embarrassed to be watching someone’s death up close. They were not holding their hands over the eyes of their children. They were simply sitting around, waiting to see how a human being died, an act gross beyond belief.

Who were these people? They were ordinary folks who just had come to witness (remember that word); witness an “ordinary action.” It was probably not even considered a violent act, just Sunday afternoon entertainment in an age when true entertainment was hard to come by.

So, who were they? They were witnesses, on-lookers. Mind you, however, these people did not witness to, stand against, the indescribable violence; they did not rise up to object to it. No, rather I should imagine that they stood in agreement with it. So, my point is that these photos showed people who came to watch (witness) but they made no effort to “witness” against the death of a human person or even against the grossness of the entire event.

So, my point is that we, ordinary human beings, can either stand around and look at (witness) something without demonstrating any emotions, or, on the other hand, we can stand and witness our feelings about some particular act that we find unjust. The more honorable of the two, of course, is to witness our concern, our standing against an issue.

I am saying all this because the word witness threads its way through many of the scriptures during the Fifty Days of Easter.

There are numerous occasions, for instance, when the disciples of Jesus witnessed his suffering and death, but also occasions after the resurrection when they speak of seeing him, eating and drinking with him, hearing him refer to the Jewish scriptures as predicting his future apostolate.

So important were these events in Jesus’ life that, for the early Church, it would be unthinkable not to say what they had witnessed. This was too important to be left behind without notice.

Think then what Christian life would be like today if those early Christians, apostles, disciples and just ordinary folks had decided that those events were just not important enough to be witnessed, remembered and passed on. What would our faith look like if that had been the case? It is a rhetorical question, of course, because we know that these Christians did, indeed, pass on the stories of Jesus that form our faith today.

Of course, that leaves us with the most important question? If we claim to be Catholic, where is the witness to that? How do we stand after having witnessed the stories of Jesus’ life in the gospels?

Does any other person, Christian or non-Christian, have any sense that we have “been there,” that we are a witness to Christ?

On the quality of Christian witness, Thomas Merton, the Cistercian monk, once said that a saint preaches sermons by the way he/she walks and the way he/she stands…the way he/she picks up things and holds them in his hands.

Well, that sounds pretty easy, but, truly, our body posture tells others a lot about ourselves. How do we stand, where do we stand, that’s the question? Witnessing and standing-for are practically the same thing, right?

The scriptures: Acts 3: 13-15, 17-19; 1 John 2: 1-5; Lk 24:35-48

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 04:04 PM.

April 15, 2009

Second Sunday of Easter - Divine Mercy [April 19, 2009]

I have long had the notion that youngsters have a certain intuition about things in this life that those of us who are older need to learn from books or other ready resources. If, for instance, you were to ask them to describe their notion of Christmas, they would immediately tell you about gift giving, or about a Child who is a gift to us all. Of course, they might also tell you “what they got” (gifts) but my hunch is that the gifts might turn out to be less important than the meaning of the event itself.

My point is that there is something down deep some mystery deep in human life that just comes naturally or that is co-natural with human life itself.

Or again, take the feast of Easter: If you were to approach kids and ask them about it, what they might tell you is that it “happens” in spring, or that we use symbols that talk about “newness,” freshness.

You may wish to tell me that those kids are smart beyond their age-level. Yes, it may well be true; perhaps they have had a theologian for their teacher in grade school.

But my point is that there is something natural, something intuitive about various experiences in human life. You don’t have to learn them; they come naturally, by nature.

Speaking for instance of the Feast of Easter, the Lord’s Resurrection, you might wish to ask an adult Christian, educated in the faith, for his theological sense of the feast. I’m sure most of us would immediately try to remember what we were taught in our theology classes about the resurrection, the power of the Father to raise His Son Jesus from the dead. Or the person may respond with a theological explanation of redemption, Christ’s suffering, death and resurrection. Others might want to speak of victory, forgiveness, and reconciliation.

Others may wish to speak of the sacred rites and how they relate to nature: What was dead has now come back to life as the buds on trees come to life each spring.

All these would be perfectly correct, of course. But most Christians usually do not ask for a theological explanation of the mystery of Christ’s life, death and resurrection. They would rather tell you what it means to them, how it feels, what symbols best represent the meaning of the feast.

They might wish to speak of their own rising to life from a close to-death-experience. They might choose to describe how life appears to them in the spring of year, what it feels like to be rid of winter and look forward to the life which the sun brings forth.

In short, some might say in answer to the question of resurrection: “Hey, just look around: Everything in this world goes through the death and rising experience. It’s just that Jesus offers us his own experience of rising from death to life. We, in turn, look for similar instances in life that will give us reason to get up each morning and begin again, despite the ‘deaths’ we passed through yesterday and the day before that.”

I think my sense is that the theological support for the feasts of Christ are always necessary. But when we are asked about their meaning in our life, we will always return to personal experiences that we know best.

The advantage of this sort of answer is that it is something that can give us life, something that will give us hope for life on another day. In short, if Christ is risen so can we rise, not just once but tomorrow and every day of our life. That is what resurrection means to me. I wouldn’t hesitate for a moment to share that with any young Christian who asks, “hey what is resurrection all about?”

The scriptures: Acts 4:32-35; 1 Jn 5:1-6; Jn 20:19-31

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 12:55 PM.

April 06, 2009

Easter [April 12, 2009]

I have long had the notion that youngsters have a certain intuition about things in this life that those of us who are older need to learn from books or other ready resources. If, for instance, you were to ask them to describe their notion of Christmas, they would immediately tell you about gift giving, or about a Child who is a gift to us all. Of course, they might also tell you “what they got” (gifts) but my hunch is that the gifts might turn out to be less important than the meaning of the event itself.

My point is that there is something down deep some mystery deep in human life that just comes naturally or that is co-natural with human life itself.

Or again, take the feast of Easter: If you were to approach kids and ask them about it, what they might tell you is that it “happens” in spring, or that we use symbols that talk about “newness,” freshness.

You may wish to tell me that those kids are smart beyond their age-level. Yes, it may well be true; perhaps they have had a theologian for their teacher in grade school.

But my point is that there is something natural, something intuitive about various experiences in human life. You don’t have to learn them; they come naturally, by nature.

Speaking for instance of the Feast of Easter, the Lord’s Resurrection, you might wish to ask an adult Christian, educated in the faith, for his theological sense of the feast. I’m sure most of us would immediately try to remember what we were taught in our theology classes about the resurrection, the power of the Father to raise His Son Jesus from the dead. Or the person may respond with a theological explanation of redemption, Christ’s suffering, death and resurrection. Others might want to speak of victory, forgiveness, and reconciliation.

Others may wish to speak of the sacred rites and how they relate to nature: What was dead has now come back to life as the buds on trees come to life each spring.

All these would be perfectly correct, of course. But most Christians usually do not ask for a theological explanation of the mystery of Christ’s life, death and resurrection. They would rather tell you what it means to them, how it feels, what symbols best represent the meaning of the feast.

They might wish to speak of their own rising to life from a close to-death-experience. They might choose to describe how life appears to them in the spring of year, what it feels like to be rid of winter and look forward to the life which the sun brings forth.

In short, some might say in answer to the question of resurrection: “Hey, just look around: Everything in this world goes through the death and rising experience. It’s just that Jesus offers us his own experience of rising from death to life. We, in turn, look for similar instances in life that will give us reason to get up each morning and begin again, despite the ‘deaths’ we passed through yesterday and the day before that.”

I think my sense is that the theological support for the feasts of Christ are always necessary. But when we are asked about their meaning in our life, we will always return to personal experiences that we know best.

The advantage of this sort of answer is that it is something that can give us life, something that will give us hope for life on another day. In short, if Christ is risen so can we rise, not just once but tomorrow and every day of our life. That is what resurrection means to me. I wouldn’t hesitate for a moment to share that with any young Christian who asks, “hey what is resurrection all about?”

The scriptures: Acts 10: 34, 37-43; 1 Corintians 5: 6-8; Mark 16: 1-7

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 09:30 AM.

May 10, 2008

Pentecost - Remembering the Way it Was

Occasionally I will be driving to or from work on a weekday and I will notice a new building or a business going up. I know what will soon follow: Big signs announcing “Opening Day.” Following that there will be advertisements in the local newspaper or on television offering special deals. There may also be brightly clad individuals waving signs at the door or on the street corner. It’s all about letting us know that this is an important day for these people, for this company. They are not ashamed to let the whole world know about it.

I’m sure that a lot of planning went into this project of theirs, lots of money and effort as well. One thing for sure: They want us all to know how they feel about their new venture. There will probably never be another day like this in their history.

People find it important to celebrate special occasions: Birthdays, anniversaries, graduations, new jobs, first-time accomplishments, et cetera. For the most part, the persons celebrating want the whole world to know about it too, even though much of the world could probably care less. For these people it’s all-important. First time events have special meaning.

I have a hunch that this may have been the case with a group of folks who had just recently followed the leadership of a man named Jesus of Nazareth who, much to their distress, had only recently been killed by the Roman authorities.

So, here they are then, gathered in fear behind locked doors because they were only a small minority in he midst of a powerful empire. I can imagine them all sitting there, scared out of their wits, wondering what was going to happen next.

Well, you know the story: We’re all familiar with it. There was a strong and forceful wind whipping through the house. All of them gathered there felt the warmth of fire settling over them. But what happened next was even more important. They probably said: “Hey, something important is happening here; we have to talk about this to whomever will listen.

And that is exactly what they did: They couldn’t keep their mouths shut. They just had to tell people that this Jesus of Nazareth, the Messiah was still with them and that his grand project he called God’s Good News was now meant to be preached throughout the world (or a least what there was of it in those days.)

So, what’s this all about? Well, any of us with a sense of history knows: It is the story of the beginning of the Church of Jesus Christ. Obviously, there was no record of it in Roman newspapers, no one standing on the street corner waving banners or signs.

So, how did the folks who experienced all this describe it? They remembered two signs, two phenomena: There was wind and fire. There is meaning and symbolism in those two events and it has all to do with spreading, scattering, dispersion, diffusion.

We all know the power of tornadoes or hurricanes. We know what happens when fire gets out of control: Whole city blocks are often destroyed. Forest fires wipe out thousands of acres of prime timber.

But in this instance wind did not destroy, fire did not destroy. Wind and fire were symbols of the power of Jesus’ Good News being spread throughout the land to bring something completely new into existence.

And all this happened, of course, not through the power of wind and fire alone, but through the courage and giftedness of some very ordinary people who just could not hold themselves back. They had to speak out.

So, what should we make out of all this? Here is my sense of it: Throughout the entire history of our church, from Pentecost to this Sunday in the year 2008, the power of Jesus Good News has been spread abroad in a very simple and ordinary way: By word of mouth! Given today’s means of communication, word of mouth does not seem very efficient, does it? But think of this: There is no mode of communication more powerful or more effective than the word that is shared between two people, two friends, nothing more powerful than the faith we share with each other. That’s the way it has been done since the first Pentecost, amazing, as it may seem.

What I think this also mean is that Pentecost is never over: We can’t simply fall back on the efforts of those few early Christians. Nor can we fall back on the words of the pope alone or the local bishop alone, we can’t fall back on the efforts of the preacher here today. All that will not get the Good News of the Church of Jesus Christ very far. Every one of us counts, every conversation we have with our brothers and sisters about what our faith means to us; all that is important for the spreading of the Good News of Jesus Christ.

So, what all this comes down to is this: There’s no stopping the effects of the wind, there’s no stopping the effects of the fire that comes from the faith we all profess as Christians. Above all, don’t be afraid to speak up. The future of your Church depends on you.

The scriptures: Acts 2: 1-11; 1 Corinthians 12, 3b-7, 12-13; John 20: 19-23

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 04:11 PM.

May 03, 2008

7th Sunday Ascension - Going it Alone

I would never have called my father a liberal, at least in the context we use that term today. He was always a careful and conservative man. He managed to get his family through the great depression of the Thirties which means, of course, that he managed his money carefully.

I can remember receiving only two “major” gifts from my father as I was growing up: He bought me a wristwatch for my high school graduation. On the train station when I was headed off for basic training in the U.S. Army, he shook my hand and I found there a fifty-dollar bill! Now, mind you, fifty dollars was no small change in those days, but I remember him saying: “Here’s a little something just in case you need it.” Then he gave me a hug, something he rarely did. He was conservative, of course!

Nonetheless, I learned something from my father on that day at the railroad station: He was ultimately a softhearted, sentimental person. He also knew that this was the last time I would be part of the family. It turned out to be true. I never returned home again for any long period of time.

So, as I recall it, this was an important moment for my father. Difficult as it was for him, he managed to say goodbye, even with a few tears in his eyes.

This recollection reminds me of the line from one of Shakespeare’s plays (I think it was Romeo and Juliet) “Parting is such sweet sorrow.”

Well, I don’t know how sweet parting is, but I think all of us would agree that parting is something we do not eagerly look forward to.

The problem is that at this point in our life many things will change, nothing will ever be quite the same again. We will be on our own, for good or ill. Perhaps we could honestly say that at a parting we are all a little scared, especially if this is the first time we have left our family. What if we flunk out of college? What if our first job turns out to be more than we can handle? Could we ever go home again without embarrassment?

By the way, that phrase came from the title of a book by Thomas Wolfe: You Can’t Go Home Again.
It seems to be true: Once you leave the familiar confines of the place where you grew up, you will find that it is never the same even if you decide to go back. What is fundamentally different, of course, is you. You have changed in the meantime. So, if we do go home again, it will not be the same person who goes there.

I wanted to talk a little about leave-taking because that is what we are asked to think about today on the feast of the Ascension of the Lord.

Perhaps the word we use to identify this day is in some sense deceptive because implies a “going up,” Jesus’ going up to heaven, back to His Father. I have no doubt that at some point after Jesus’ resurrection He did indeed leave his friends. Whether Jesus “went up” is a question. But for the early disciples, “up” meant the place where God was. This was their sense of cosmology, their sense of the world. If Jesus went anywhere, it had to be up.

But we can set cosmology aside and simply ask about the implications of Jesus’ leaving. What is really clear is that Jesus, in the last few years of his ministry, developed a very close relationship with some very ordinary people, men and women, mostly working class folks. What is also clear is that he depended on them to help him fulfill his ministry. They were to be his trusted confidants. They traveled with Him; they preached as best they could, they took the responsibility of sharing bread with people. In simplest words, they were a “band of brothers.”

I can’t help but think, therefore, that after Jesus’ death and resurrection he must have come to the point where he needed to say goodbye to this band of brothers and sisters and that this must have given him a sense of sadness. After all, they had all gone through a lot together, some good times and some bad times.

So, it is interesting to notice that on the day he “headed for home,” Jesus wanted to make sure that his disciples would not be in complete despair over his going. He says to them: “Behold I am with you always, even until the end of the age.”

He did not say here how he was to be with them, but, for sure, this was not to be the end of the great adventure: Jesus gives his friends a task to continue working on: “Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

The logical question to ask, therefore, is this: What did Jesus expect would happen at “the end of the age,” at a point when the last disciple had passed on? Was this to be the end of the great adventure of preaching the kingdom of God?

Well, I have to believe that Jesus was smart enough to know that at some point his disciples would not be able to carry on his work. So, the only conclusion I can come to is that Jesus meant for his work to be carried on to the end of every age, throughout all of history. That has to be the only sensible way to understand Jesus’ work, namely that it now belongs to us, to his Church, with the help of the Spirit to carry it forward.

Of course, this work is more than about baptizing. It’s about all the ministries that we have learned to take upon ourselves as Catholic Christians: Lectors, Eucharistic ministers, catechists, visitors to the sick, comforters of the dying, et cetera. In short, there are pastoral leaders of all sorts available, depending on our unique gifts.

So, in the end we must say that we do not know whether Jesus was sad that he had to “go home.” Given what we do now know from history, we would have to say that He doesn’t need to worry. We’re trying our best to “keep things together.” Sure, we’ve made some mistakes, but, after all, we’re human, the Church is human, but we can still depend on Jesus to keep his word. “I will be with you until the end of the age.”

The scriptures: Acts 1: 12-14; 1 Pt 4:13-16; John 17:1-11a

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 04:22 PM.

April 26, 2008

6th Sunday of Easter - The Long Loneliness

Although I never personally met her, one of my all-time favorite people was Dorothy Day. She died in 1980 and during her lifetime she had several careers: A journalist, a Socialist, publisher of a monthly “penny paper” called the Catholic Worker. (It still only costs a penny.)

She was also a convert to the Catholic Church. She loved this adopted church so much that she had no fear even taking on the Cardinal Archbishop of New York on issues of war and peace.

Most especially though she was known for founding the Houses of Hospitality that welcomed any and all from the streets of large cities. She personally took on the responsibility of making the daily potato soup and bread, making up the beds, sitting and talking to people as long as they needed someone to talk to.

Dorothy Day wrote a book, an autobiography late in her life entitled The Long Loneliness. It was sort of a sad book because Dorothy had experienced a hard life: First married, then divorced, then living alone.

But we learn from her autobiography that she found her greatest joy in being with others, with people of all classes of society. That was probably the reason why she founded The Catholic Worker and the Houses of Hospitality: She loved people and needed people to fill up her life because she was basically a lonely person.

It has occurred to me many times that perhaps most of us are basically lonely people. We come into this world all alone and we leave this world alone. But in the intervening years we long for and search for companionship: We marry, we join social groups or religious communities, and we make friends, often for life. All this tells me that we cannot bear to be alone.

Whoever was the author of the Book of Genesis he surely had a deep understanding of human nature. He is convinced that God created woman because it was not good for the man to be alone; so he created a helpmate. Then he adds this: “That is why a man leaves his father and mother and joins himself to his wife and they become one body.” One translation uses the word “cling”, the man “clings” to his wife because she is all he has. Without her he will be lonely for all of his life.

I have always thought of those lines as containing a deep insight into our deepest longings. Is it any wonder then that we spend so much of our life searching for that one person who will fulfill our deepest desires?

I often tell young people at their wedding that from this day forward they are meant to “cling to one another.” It is what will give meaning to their lives.

Despite this normal human longing, however, we are still destined to spend much of our life alone. Two examples: Occasionally I will walk back into church after Mass on a Sunday and look around. Not a soul is left in the pews. I say to myself: “An hour ago this place was packed with worshipers. They depended on me to celebrate the Eucharist; they waited for a word of encouragement in the homily. But now they have all gone their way and I am here alone (with Jesus!)”

Some years ago when I taught at a university, I would often join the drama students, taking a minor role in some play. Sometimes when the production was over, I would walk back out on the stage and look around. Not a soul in the bleachers; everyone had gone home and here I stood alone on the stage.

All this tells me that at many times in our lives we need to admit that we do stand alone. How must it be then for those who are sent to solitary confinement in prison? I would find that unbearable.

As I read the gospels, the story of Jesus’ life, I have the sense that he too must often have been lonely. True enough, he would choose to be off by himself in the desert or the mountains. But we also know that he longed for the companionship of his friends Lazarus, Martha and Mary. He “hung around” with the Twelve Apostles, with the Seventy Two, with many disciples. He was truly at home with the crowds. We also know, of course, that on the last night of his life he depended on his friends to support him: “Could you not watch one hour with me,” he cried out?

Perhaps it is not so unlikely, therefore, that he decided to establish a community of friends that would eventually become what we know as Church today. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to call together his friends and tell them that he would not leave them orphans. Even though he must eventually leave them and go his way, he would send them an Advocate, the Holy Spirit, who would continue to be with them forever.

That is the way I have always thought of Church, as a gathering of friends at worship. True enough, Mass often seems like a formality that we take part in all alone but it does not have to be that way. There ought to be a sense of companionship in the pews and in the relationship of the presider and the folks.

If there is ever a situation where ideally Christians, Catholics, should not need not feel alone it would surely need to be in Church. That is one place where we definitely are one big family.

So, all these thoughts came to me as I looked through the liturgical calendar and noted that next Sunday we celebrate the feast of the Ascension of the Lord, Jesus’ leave-taking. And following that we celebrate the feast of Pentecost, the day of the Lord’s return in the Holy Spirit. All that tells me that we should never consider ourselves orphans. Jesus has never truly left us.

Perhaps Dorothy Day had it right: The best way to escape life’s Long Loneliness is to find a community and to cling to it. When you think about that, it’s probably the only option we have and not a bad one at that. The scriptures: Acts 8: 5-8, 14-17; 1 Peter 3: 15-18, John 14: 15-21

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 01:40 PM.

April 19, 2008

5th Sunday of Easter - Who’s Church?

It has always interested me to notice, at least among Christians, how important a role their church plays in their daily lives. Whether folks attend Mass regularly or not, they will ordinarily defend themselves as Catholics who belong to this or that church.

If you ask folks, particularly on the East Coast, or, say, in Louisiana, where they live, they will tell you: “I live in St. Monica’s Parish or “I live in St. Genieve’s.” Perhaps they will tell you that this is their church because it is the place where they feel ethnically and spiritually comfortable, welcomed, at home. Of course, they will also support and defend that church because it’s theirs. At least that is their conviction.

For as long as the Catholic Church has been in existence, it has identified itself with the culture of the times in which it exists. We speak, therefore, of the “Early Church, Jewish and Christian. We hear a lot about the deep faith of the Church of the Middle Ages, or the more rich and flamboyant Church of the Renaissance, or, today, the Church of the Second Vatican Council. In every case the Church is identified with people, with their culture, their language, their habits and customs. One might need to say that the only Church that truly exists is the one that we know here and now, at this moment, in this place on this planet.

Another interesting element about Church is the question: “whose Church is it?” That may sound like a silly question because the Church doesn’t belong to anyone (not even the pope.) If the Church belongs to anyone, it belongs to Jesus Christ, the Founder!

But we have a lot of rather sorry history surrounding this very question: Who’s Church is it? Who controls it, whose is in charge?

I can still remember as a kid the disputes that went on in our Church of St. Henry over who was in charge: The church trustees or the pastor. In one instance, the trustees were so powerful that they actually persuaded the bishop to have the pastor deposed, sent packing!

Just recently we have a story in the Catholic news of the situation of a Polish church in St. Louis. There has been a battle going on for several years between the parishioners and Archbishop Raymond Burke over who owns the church’s financial assets, the parishioners or the bishop? The folks say, “The church is ours, we built it with our money.” The bishop says, “Sorry, I’m the boss, I call the shots.” In fact, it came to the point where the bishop closed the church altogether and excommunicated some of the parish leaders. The parishioners, for their part, went out and got their own pastor, a Polish priest from another parish! The battle continues. Pretty scandalous situation. But it tells you that people love their church and not even an archbishop is going to take it away from them. Of course, if someone tells you that it’s not about the money, it’s about the money! Jesus must be weeping.

In the Boston Archdiocese a similar situation is happening. The Archbishop closed a number of churches. In the case of the Church of St. Joan of Arc, the parishioners have occupied the church night and day for several months and refuse to leave.

Well, all of this tells you, of course, that over the centuries that the Church has been in existence, it has not existed in a vacuum. It always seems to take on the patterns of secular life, and that is not always a good model.

A good question to ask, of course, is this: What was it like in the beginning? What was in the mind of Jesus and the early Christians when Christianity took root? Obviously, Jesus himself did not set up any organization.

Within a few years, of course, those early disciples began to organize themselves into bodies called churches. Most of them were smaller than our normal parish today. Hence, the atmosphere was more intimate, close-knit.

Well, let me say that there is an answer to that question, Who’s Church Is It? You heard the answer a few moments ago when we listened to the second reading from the Letter of Peter

Let me warn you ahead of time that this is not the sort of language we use today. Nonetheless, it will tell you a lot about how those early Christians, our brothers and sisters, thought about themselves. Here is how the author of that letter to the Christians referred to them: Let me paraphrase it: “My brothers and sisters, remember, Jesus Christ is our living cornerstone, precious in the sight of God. And you too are living stones. Therefore, you must build yourselves up on the cornerstone that is Christ. After all, you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation a people set apart to praise the God who has called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.”

My friends, to my mind that is one of the clearest descriptions of Church that I have ever heard. It tells us who we are, how we are related to Christ and what our task in the world is all about.

How different that is from the way we often think of Church today with all our organization, all our laws, all the competition that goes on over who makes decisions, who has the power, et cetera.

It occurs to me to say, therefore, that it wouldn’t be a bad idea if every parish, every Christian community were to gather once each year, aside from Mass, and discuss questions like this: What does this Christian community think about itself? What responsibility do we take for our Church? How do we think about our leaders, the bishop and the local pastor? Do we collaborate for the good of our parish or do we struggle for power? The answers to those questions might give the parish a clear idea of how it thinks of itself.

The point is, my friends, we just can’t take our church, our Christian community, for granted. We are all living stones, as the letter of Peter described. We are built on the cornerstone that is Christ.

Whether all this will change bishops’decisions to close churches, I don’t know. Whether it will help Christians understand their role as members of a parish, I have no idea. But one thing for sure, if we could only decide to use the model of those early Christians we just heard about, we’d all be a happier Church and the question Who’s Church Is It? Would never even raise its ugly head?

The scriptures: Acts 6 1-7; 1 Peter 2: 4-9; John 14: 1-12

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 03:58 PM.

April 13, 2008

4th Sunday of Easter - The Politics of Shepherding

I imagine by this time of the year most of us are pretty weary of the politics of electing a president and at this point we are not even in the final stages of the presidential campaign.

Politics has always interested me, not in the sense that I want to be any elected official but rather because the motivations of those who run for office seem so mysterious. Why anyone would want to run for the office of president of the United States, for instance, puzzles me. Either the candidate must have a large ego, loves being a power broker or he is simply a masochist, and doesn’t mind for the next four or eight years being lampooned with cartoons in national magazines. Let’s face it: Politics is messy business: Large bodies of people are basically ungovernable, uncontrollable. Who would want to spend a large part of his or her life fighting political battles?

Realistically, of course, somebody has to do it, for whatever motivation. I would like to think that at least some politicians have a high motivation for running for office, despite it’s burdens. There must be some politicians out there who sincerely believe that they can make the world a better place and are willing to take the flack that goes with the office. Some (many I hope) are sincerely concerned for the welfare of their brothers and sisters of their constituency. I hope this does not prove to be a naïve hope. If it is, then our world is in deeper trouble than I think it is already.

Despite the bad reputation that the world of politics often has, the individuals who use their office for their own ends, there is still something gratifying about being able to say that we have done something to make the world a better place, that we have brought order out of chaos, that the poor and the underprivileged have been served. Leadership, if it is chosen for a high motive, is a noble goal.

Given the complexity of human communities, of course, leadership is an absolute necessity. Fortunately, there always seems to be some individual or individuals who rise to the top and pledge to do their best for the commonweal. Nonetheless, high motivation would seem to be required; otherwise chaos and harm will ensue.

Perhaps not many politicians think about their motivation, but if they were to do so, I would suggest that they think about being shepherds. I know that is not a very acceptable term today because most folks in the community do not like to think of themselves as aimless sheep; people who need someone else to run their lives for them.

Nonetheless, shepherding is an ancient and honorable profession. Although in our time that occupation is limited to a few individuals, the shepherd’s task has a wider implication as a metaphor for anything that involves caring for someone or for many.

Whether we reflect on it or not, there are many natural shepherds among us: Parents, teachers, social workers, political leaders, spiritual directors, bishops and pastors…popes even! Each one needs to be concerned regarding a different flock. But, ultimately their task to make sure that good order prevails and that people are served in whatever manner is important to them. In short, shepherding is an intimate part of life in the world. Without someone at the helm, life becomes unlivable.

It is not unlikely then that Jesus should have chosen shepherd as a model for the vocation he felt attracted him.

When you re-read the gospel we just proclaimed, for instance, you get the sense that Jesus did not have much patience with the spiritual leadership of his time. Spiritually, those whose task it was to do this very thing were not caring for people. Indeed, he uses some pretty tough language for those entrusted with temple or synagogue leadership: He calls them “thieves and robbers.” I’m sure that is a reference to the temple taxes that the poor had to pay for simple sacrifices. He also calls them “strangers” because no one in the flock is listening to them.

So, what then is Jesus’ model for leadership? What is a model that will fit our times, whether spiritual or secular?

The metaphor Jesus uses best is this: “The shepherd walks ahead of the sheep; they hear his voice and follow him.” “Walking ahead,” obviously refers to good leadership. People, who look for leadership, look ahead not behind. Natural leaders are consistently “out front” of the flock, always thinking ahead, always looking for ways to make sure everyone is on the same page. Anyone who wants to be a leader needs to take charge and not wait for someone else to take responsibility. Responsibility goes with the job.

Another implication in Jesus’ reference to being a leader is trust: Unless the people you lead have implicit trust in you and your leadership, you will never be successful.

And a third implication in Jesus model of shepherd is respect. If you have no respect for those who look to you for leadership, if you are using people for your own ends, you will eventually fail. People will see through that very quickly.

And finally what seems implied in Jesus’ model is dedication: If you don’t want to work hard, if you don’t want to spend long hours figuring out what your people need most, you will not be fulfilling your task and responsibility.

In the end, of course, we would need to say that being a shepherd, a leader has many gratifying moments: If only one person on a given day feels that his or her life has been made better because of your efforts, then you should feel good about that. Your shepherding has been a model of God’s grace.

Hey, maybe that would be a good motive to run for office in the next election. Think of the good you could do.

The scriptures: Acts 2: 14a, 36-41; 1 Peter 2 20b-25; John 10: 1-10

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 03:52 PM.

April 06, 2008

3rd Sunday of Easter - Recognition

One of the comforting things about being a presider at Mass is that you have a sense that you are in charge! I don’t mean for that to sound disrespectful, but when you are standing before, say, couple hundred people who have come to church to experience God or the sacred, you know that you have a serious responsibility on your hands. People expect you to know what you are doing and to help them celebrate the liturgy in a reasonably sacred manner. That’s your job!

Let me point out, however, that, as in other activities in life, they do no always run smoothly, even those we consider sacred.

Let me tell you, for instance, where things can get really messy at Mass, where you sometimes can lose control: It’s mainly at the time of the distribution of Holy Communion! Don’t misunderstand me: Folks are ordinarily quite orderly at communion time. However, it’s the moms and dads who are “dragging” their little kids along…that’s where I sometimes lose control. Kids are really funny (they don’t know it, of course.) But often when they come before me, they will say: “Hey, are you really God?” Or, “Are you Jesus?” More often though they will extend their stubby little hand or grab hold of the ciborium with the sacred hosts and say: “I want some of that too.” At that point the mother or father will say: “You don’t get any yet, come on, let’s go” and they get dragged off. Then the crying begins, of course, and I know well that at this point I have truly lost all control of the situation.

But, of course, who can blame the kids? Everybody else is “getting Jesus” except these little guys and girls. I’d be mad too if I didn’t “get something” at communion time. Who can blame them?

In some mysterious way, I’m sure most Catholics, when they come to church, are asking exactly for what the little kids are asking for. If they could explain it, they would want to say “I had an experience of God today.

How that happens, of course, is a great mystery. Each person experiences God in a unique manner. Fundamentally, however, whether we happen to be at Mass or not, we instinctively want to be in touch with the sacred.

That is exactly the situation we find in the gospel for this Sunday, the beautiful story of the two followers of Jesus who had a sacred experience of meeting Jesus Christ and didn’t even know who it was. You just heard the story: Purely by accident, they meet him on their way home to Emmaus soon after the terrible days of the crucifixion. They have no idea who this stranger is but they strike up a conversation with him about all that has happened in Jerusalem those past few days. It was sad news for them, obviously, but they had to say it.

At last the stranger says: “Here, let me explain what all this means. Have you never read the scriptures? All that just happened was predicted by the prophets.” The disciples, of course, still have no idea who they are talking to, no idea that this man is talking about himself.

Finally, they reach a motel; the day is late, so they invite the stranger to have supper with them. He doesn’t seem all that interested but finally says, “Ok.” In the middle of the supper he takes a piece of bread, breaks it and hands it to them. They probably had a cup of wine too, although it’s not mentioned.

All of a sudden they say: “Hey, wait a minute, we’ve seen all this before. Remember the Last Supper?” At that point they know for sure they are talking with Jesus. It’s the Last Supper all over again.

The question is how did they know it was still the same Jesus? Jesus did not introduce himself. Two things are clear from the past: First, Jesus explained the scriptures and then he broke bread with them. It is probably safe to say that this was one of the first times, after the Last Supper, that Mass was celebrated.

Now, why are we hearing all this? We are hearing all this in the scriptures because the early Christians, our brothers and sisters, wanted everyone to know that you could recognize Jesus if you came together as a community, read and shared the scriptures and then broke bread together. In simplest form, that is what we do each Sunday.

So now let’s go back to the Holy Communion stories I told earlier. If you ask practically any Catholic to name what is most important to them while celebrating Mass together, they will say “when we receive Holy Communion; that is where we meet Jesus Christ.”

The problem with that answer, of course, is that we are missing part of the picture. Jesus actually became recognizable to those early Christians in several ways: First, by gathering the folks. Secondly, by explaining the scriptures. Thirdly, by breaking bread, sharing it and by blessing the cup of wine and sharing it and finally by sending them out to share the good news. That’s about as full, complete and clear a picture of the Mass as you are ever going to get.

So, once again, my friends, here we are, gathered on the Lord’s Day not simply, as we say, to go to Mass. We gather on the Lord’s Day to meet Jesus again. The only difference between ourselves and those two disciples of Jesus at Emmaus is that Jesus should be no stranger to us. We’ve had two thousand and more years to get acquainted with Jesus. The point to remember is that we need to put our mind to all this when we gather on the Lord’s Day.

It would be nice, wouldn’t it, if we could say to one another as we were driving home after Mass: “Were not our hearts burning within us when He explained the scriptures and broke bread with us?” Well, perhaps we are not at that point of “burning hearts” yet, but it’s something to be hoped for, isn’t it? It’s all about recognizing Jesus.

The scriptures: Acts 2: 14, 22-23; 1 Peter 1: 17-21; Luke 24, 13-35

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 01:01 AM.

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.

May 26, 2007

Pentecost Sunday - "Here Comes Everybody"

It has often occurred to me as I gaze out upon a Sunday assembly gathered for worship that they are surely an interesting variety of folks: Old and young, kids in arms, teenagers. But even more interesting is the variety of nationalities and languages gathered out there. We Catholics at Mass are truly a human kaleidoscope.

I am sure that if our grandparents or great grandparents were to wander into a typical Catholic Church in this year 2007, they would be more than astonished. They might even wonder what country they were in.

The reason for that is because in their own times the Catholic congregations that they were part of were fairly homogeneous, mostly Anglo-European people. Not only that, but if they were of German descent, they probably attended "the German church." If Irish, "the Irish church," if Polish, "the Polish church", et cetera. But there was one common physical trait common to all of them: They were all white for the most part! If there were any black folks among them, most likely they would be sitting by themselves in the back or in the choir loft, unfortunately.

Now, as I say, if those grandparents were to come into a large, metropolitan church in New York City, Chicago, Los Angeles or, indeed any moderately large city today, they would see people from Mexico, from Central America, from Polynesia, from Africa and many other parts of the world. They might be inclined to ask, "Hey, where did all these folks come from. We didn't know there were so many Catholics in other places around the world."

Well, astonishing, as that grand variety of folks may seem, it is simply a natural phenomenon of culture and history. There have been movements of people throughout history, due mainly to the fact that they came searching for food and freedom. And, of course, they brought their religion, their faith, and, indeed, their priests with them. Their religious heritage was important to them.

For a time, of course, all these ethnic and religious groups "kept to themselves." It was simply a matter of maintaining their identity. So, they went to their own churches. In large cities there might have been as many as four churches on four corners of a city block. So, naturally, they were able to pray in their own language, follow their own devotions and customs or simply find a certain comfort in identifying with their own "kind."

Now, of course, that era of protectionism is past and folks today simply gather in the nearest church geographically close to them, but they also bring with them their customs of the past. So, we may have as many as a half dozen different "ethnic" liturgies in a particular church on an average Sunday.

So, at the end of this great cycle, we find the old traditional white European enclave being absorbed into a variety of other colors, cultures and ethnicities.

Is this good or bad? It can't be bad, for sure, when people of the same faith gather to share not only whatever is sacred to them but also the symbols and customs that carry that faith into the community. For all who are open to this variety, they must come away the richer for it.

I am saying all this because it is a modern day picture of what happened on that day we Catholics call Pentecost when the wind and the fire of the Holy Spirit came down upon the apostles and people began hearing them speak in their own languages.

Jerusalem, as we know, has forever been a cross-cultural city. People from all over the Middle East have gathered there, whether for trade, for recreation or the expression of their religious faith. So, in the reading you just heard, there were people gathered in Jerusalem, from fourteen different countries and ethnic backgrounds. I'm sure that would be a challenge for any liturgist in our day! How do you get all these folks together doing the same thing?

Looking at all this background, it appears to me that the Spirit of God has been gathering people of different languages, backgrounds, ethnicities and religions since the beginning of human time (whenever that was!)

The point is, that when people want to pray together, there is no human difference that can keep them apart. They will ordinarily rise above it.

It must be said, however, that it is not always a simple matter. In our own day, for instance, there are differences that are quasi-political that keep poking up their heads: Christians and Catholics in our time are taking up sides called Liberal or Conservative, Progressive and Traditional, Catholic or Evangelical.

A well-known Catholic writer, Father Ronald Rolheiser recently wrote an article in U.S. Catholic magazine entitled: "Knock it Off!" Basically, he was saying that it is time for Catholics to stop hammering each other and to start learning more about each other.

Again, it's Pentecost time, the time when we should be able to accept our differences of opinion without getting mad at each other, calling each other heretics.

The long and short of all this is to say that there is a unity and a beauty in diversity. The universe itself is the best example of it. God, obviously, had good sense when he created such a variety of differences. What a dull uninteresting world and a dull human community it would be if we all thought the same, lived the same, spoke the same, looked the same, felt the same.

As a matter of fact, we should simply be doing what we were created to do: Live with variety and enjoy it. I can just hear God's Spirit saying: "Hey, folks, if that's a problem, too bad. That's the way I did it. Get used to it!

The Scriptures: Acts 2: 1-11, 1 Corinthians 12: 3-7, 12-13, John 20: 19-23

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 06:28 AM.

May 12, 2007

6th Sunday of Easter - What's Wrong With Us?

I have long been convinced that there is something basically wrong with us! Now, I don't mean you folks individually sitting out there in the pews or even with myself as an individual. I'm sure you are all good and well-meaning folks. You don't ordinarily get up in the morning deciding that you are going to get into a fight with the first person you meet!

But, seriously, when you reflect deeply on it, when you think about the history of the whole human race, you will have to admit that there is a very basic flaw or disease that afflicts us. The basic flaw, to my mind, is the fact that we can't get along with each other. We have been at war with each other since we have had evidence of the first human beings that have existed on this planet.

Look at our own biblical history: The first story after the creation of the earth is the story of Adam and Eve who get into an argument over who's to blame for eating of the fruit of the tree of wisdom. Their first two sons get into an argument about whose product of the land is more pleasing to God, grain or sheep. Cain doesn't get God's blessing, so he kills Abel...all over a blessing from God!

So, my friends this scenario of violence has been going on since the beginning. I hate to say it, but we seem to be a violent people: It starts in the playground of the grade school and proceeds to the highest levels of government and society throughout the world.

I'm sure, if I asked you, you could provide for me examples immediately from your neighborhood, the morning paper or from Good Morning America. Much news is news because someone is in conflict with someone else. Someone assaults someone else and usually goes to jail.

I hate to bring all this to you on such a lovely spring day, but it is true, one of the most common traits of our humanity is the fact that we are in constant disagreement with one another. We do battle with each other.
Now, believe me, I do not have an answer to this dilemma, except to say that human beings, all of us, have the tendency to protect our person, our identity, our reputation, our name and our goods against all comers. There must be a certain pride in us that makes us so defensive and belligerent.

Why, for instance, are we fighting two wars at this moment? Why are there so many uprisings and wars among African people, Hispanic people and Anglo people? Doesn't it ever occur to people of any race that life could be so much more peaceful and productive if we just were able to get along with one another? Think of all the thousands of wars that have been fought over the planet we live in and the millions of innocent people slaughtered in the process.

It would seem to me then that any intelligent person would have to admit that we humans were obviously created to live on this planet and to enjoy its fruits in peace, but this has hardly been the case.

Now, I am not about to claim that I have an answer to world conflict. Smarter people than I have struggled with this and failed. But, inasmuch as I am a Christian and a Catholic, one would think that I should at least have some insights about the relations of Christian and Christian, Catholic and Catholic.

All I can tell you, however, is that I have read the scriptures and I have found there abundant reason to believe that at least Christians should have good reason to be able live with one another peaceably.

Alas, this has not been the case. From it's earliest days the followers of Jesus have argued and struggled with each other. Peter and Paul had their differences. The Eastern Byzantine Church and the Roman Church have been at odds for centuries. Today, if we choose to read any Catholic newspaper, we will find abundant evidence of Christians at "war" with one another.

And, my friends, all that despite what Jesus has to say to us in the gospel for this Sixth Sunday in Easter Season: Here are his words: "peace is my farewell to you, my peace is my gift to you; I do not give it to you as the world gives peace."

There it is, my friends, some of Jesus last words to his disciples and to the Church: "Peace is my gift to you."
Now, of course, Jesus also left us other gifts: The Eucharist, the gift of forgiveness et cetera. But peace is the only gift he explicitly said he was leaving us.

Now, the problem is this: Peace or any other gift is still a gift. It can't change the way we live or the way we communicate with one another. In other words, Jesus' gift of peace is a model for the way we can and how we should get along with each other. Jesus' gift can't make us be peaceful. Peace is our responsibility.

Perhaps one of our problems is that we always think that if there is a problem in the Church, the solution for it should come from the highest level, the Vatican or the local Pastoral Center. The fact is, however, neither of these have the power or the influence to make us be peaceful. Peace can only happen when folks at the middle and lower levels of the Church decide that it can be done. Indeed, peace can happen only if individuals like you or I decide that we will put our personal difference aside and talk to each other. Then perhaps Jesus' example of peace making will make its way up the ecclesiastical ladder where people in high places can learn from us.

The final point I would like to make, however, is this: It doesn't seem to me that there are very many issues in this world, especially in the Catholic Church, that are so important that we need to be at war over them. In fact, there is a good possibility that we can come to some understanding if we have the good sense to sit respectfully with each other and just listen. I'm sure that if Jesus thought peace making was meant to be more difficult than this, he would surely have told us how to do it. In the meantime, the ball is in our court.

The scriptures: Acts 15: 1-2. 22-29, Revelation 21: 10-14. 22-23, John 14: 23-29

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 10:15 AM.

May 05, 2007

5th Sunday of Easter - Being Passionate

I imagine most of us still have memories of that film by Mel Gibson that appeared a few years ago entitled The Passion of the Christ. Oddly enough, what people seem to remember most clearly about that film is the crucifixion scene, particularly the beating of Jesus that seemed to go on for an intolerable amount of time. I think what Mel Gibson was trying to tell us in that film is that Christ's passion is all about getting beaten up and hung up on a cross.

It's true, of course, Christ did suffer by being physically beaten up and crucified, but is that all that the Passion of Christ was about, I don't mean the film, but rather Christ's personal passion, his human feelings about life and death, about love and suffering and justice and all the rest?

For me, the question really is this: What was Christ passionate about? What were his deepest feelings about the meaning of life in all its dimensions?

I just wanted to bring up the issue of passion because by implication it comes up in the gospels of the post Easter Sundays in the word love. I am assuming that love is about passion, something what we feel deeply about.

It occurs to me to say that as Christians we don't often think much about Jesus' human characteristics. In the gospels his divine nature often overshadows the human nature.

But I think we can also learn something from the gospels about how Jesus personally thought and felt about life. He must have been lonely occasionally. Perhaps that is why his friends Martha, Mary and Lazarus were important to him. Perhaps that is why he took a break from preaching occasionally and had dinner at their home.

We know also that he must have been frightened occasionally, particularly when the people of a certain village kicked him out of town and threatened to throw him over a cliff. He was surely scared too during the night before he died in the Garden of Gethsemane , so scared that he perspired profusely.

I often wonder too how Jesus felt when his mother and the family came out to where he was preaching and wanted to bring him home. They thought he had lost his mind and would be hurt by violent people.

We also know that Jesus had some strong feelings about how the temple that he loved was being used for buying and selling. We know that at least on one occasion he lost his temper and literally beat up the buyers and sellers with a knotted rope. That doesn't sound like milquetoast Jesus we sometimes imagine him to be.

Today's gospel has Jesus using the word love several times. He tells the disciples that the mark of their relationship will be how they love one another. This, of course, could mean affection or simply "getting along" with each other. But my sense rather is that it means support: "Back each other up," might be a good way to put it. "I have not abandoned you through all this; now don't abandon each other either."

Does this sort of passion ever happen in real life? I think I have seen it in elderly couples that "stick together" in their old age, especially when one or the other has the signs of memory loss. I think we see it in a mother and father who care for an autistic child, knowing that the child will never by like other normal children. I think we see it in a dedicated teacher who spends time after school with a "slow learner." I think we see it in a husband and wife who stick together when one or the other loses a job.

I think all those have to do with passion, not the passion we sometimes associate with sex, but rather with dedication or commitment. Some would call it love.

There is also another kind of passion we hear about among those who are dedicated to issues of justice or peace. I think, for instance, of the thousands, young and old, who gather at the gates of the Army base at Fort Benning, Georgia each April where for many years the School of the Americas trained Army officers from Central America who in turn went back to their countries and committed all sorts of atrocities among their own people. Some of these demonstrators are in their 70's and 80's, women and men, priests and sisters, ministers, lay folks, some of whom have gone to jail several times. That is what we mean by passion, being willing to suffer for a cause that one feels is important.

So, in the end we are always left with the question, what are we passionate about? Do we have any causes we are dedicated to? What would we be willing to go to jail for or even be willing to be embarrassed over in public? My hunch is that most of us don't have many issues over which we can get excited or even angry like Jesus did in the temple that fateful day. I don't mean that we need to go out and do things that get us thrown in jail, but perhaps we do need to think occasionally about what in life really matters, what we would stand up for against all odds. Indeed, it might be a compliment if someone said to us one day: "Hey, you're really passionate about that, aren't you?

The scriptures: Acts 14: 21-27, Revelation 21: 1-5, John 13: 31-33, 34-35

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 08:43 AM.

April 28, 2007

4th Sunday of Easter - Words Have Meaning

I would be the first to tell you that technology scares me to death! A few weeks ago I went out and bought a DVD player (1 don't even know what DVD means). Anyway, the man at the store said that setting it up would be a piece of cake! I spent the better part of the next evening trying to hook it up to my television and finally called the telephone company guy and he came out and took care of it in 10 minutes. I imagine he went away thinking: "this guy is really weird! Any kid can set up a DVD player." 1 think it's my age, but I'm just overwhelmed when it's a matter of connecting wires and sockets and all that stuff.

I'm finding out that we live in a technological age and new discoveries in technology move faster than the speed of light. I can hardly keep up with ordinary things that practically everyone takes for granted, especially young people. I seem to need to learn a whole new vocabulary every week. Examples: Unless you know the meaning of these letters and symbols you may not be able to communicate with anybody: web cams, DSL, Podcast, E mail, E Bay, text messaging, modems, I Pods, Google, Yahoo, You Tube, et cetera. By next week there will be half a dozen more that I have never heard of. It's a scary world out there unless you are "tech-nerd." By the way, there is even a company today that hires technology people to come to your home to set up your television, your computer, your DVD or whatever else. Technology is out of control, at least for the ordinary citizen like myself.

Nonetheless, all this is very important. Throughout history humankind has always found that they needed to communicate, but today communication is more important than ever. We live and depend on WWW, the World Wide Web. If you want to check on your credit card balance, you may be speaking to a young tech person in India or Sri Lanka.

Seriously though, communicating with each other is a sign of our humanity, our wisdom even if it takes a computer or a cell phone to do it. If we don't keep up, we're lost.
Some years ago when Ronald Reagan was president of the United States, he was known as "The Great Communicator." He had risen up through the ranks as a radio announcer, so he knew something about how people hear things and what they will respond to.

A greater communicator than Ronald Reagan, to my mind, was Jesus of Nazareth. He obviously did not have the modern means of communication that we do today. Nonetheless, he knew how to use words that the ordinary person would understand. You remember the story of

how he held 5000 people spellbound for an entire day and well into the evening. Obviously, to do that, you have to have something to say, something that will capture interest.

Now, I don't know whether Jesus was a great orator like Demonstenes the famous Greek orator or the orators of the golden age of Greek culture, but one thing for sure, Jesus was skilled at using metaphors, mainly because he was always dealing with people who had little or no education. His audiences were not people who dealt in ideas; they dealt with images, material things that were part of their ordinary day.

But the important thing to remember in Jesus' use of metaphors is not the thing in itself, but what it meant. Metaphors never stand alone; they always have meaning, they point to something else. So, for instance, when Jesus wanted to speak about the simple life, he would talk about the lilies of the field and the birds of the air. When he wanted to talk about the "signs of the times," he would call peoples' attention to storm clouds on the horizon or of a red sunset. People knew instinctively what he was talking about. No explanations were necessary.

A metaphor Jesus used in several instances, as you well know, is that of sheep and shepherds. You could hardly miss them in those days; they were all over the hills and valleys, sometimes hard to keep in check.

So, why would Jesus use that example? Well, simply because sheep were animals that needed constant care, the care of shepherds. You don't just let sheep run around by themselves. Now, I'm sure Jesus was not all that interested in sheepherding as such. But when he drew out that example, people knew immediately that he was talking about them, the ordinary folks who lived in those surrounding villages, people who were literally pretty much on their own. The local leaders cared little about them, unless they did not pay their taxes.

So, when Jesus speaks about shepherds, he is referring to himself, about how he thinks of his relationship to his neighbors, the people who look up to him. All that was very clear to the folks who sat and listened to him. He was simply and clearly a person who could be trusted. They had no one else.

So, that brings us to say that metaphors are useless to us unless they are transferable, unless they extend across the years and the centuries. The question then is who are the shepherds of our age?

Your first answer, if you are a Catholic,will be to say "the bishops and pastors of churches." True enough. This has been the model of leadership in our church for centuries. But the problem with that model is that the "flock", a word I don't much like, will take for granted that that the bishops and pastors are, in fact, responsible for the life of the average Catholic.

But one thing we learned from the Second Vatican Council deliberations is that "Church is everybody." If it were not for the "flock", the bishops and pastors would have no reason for doing what they do.

So, what that means is that all of us are shepherds for each other; we are literally responsible for each other's salvation, for our Christian life. Being Christian is not a private endeavor. From the very beginning Jesus called groups together: Some in those groups were designated as leaders, but everyone was expected to make sure the whole flock was cared for. We are literally expected to lean on one another for the good of the whole. So, communication makes the Church a healthy Church, a community of believers.

What makes communication hard? What makes it difficult is when we get into our little corners with our pet positions and refuse to talk to each other. That's where charity breaks down and that's where the Church ceases to be the community of Jesus' followers.

On the other hand, communication is an exciting thing because it opens up the possibility for new and creative ideas, the chance for everyone to share something new for the good of the whole.

Despite all the new discoveries and technologies in modem communication, the most effective way to build community is still simply the human voice, the opportunity to talk to one another, respectfully with an open ear and an open mind. It worked pretty well for Jesus although I have a hunch that if the World Wide Web had been around in his time, he would probably have been spending some time on that too. After all, he was "the great Communicator."

The scriptures: Acts 13: 14, 43-52 Revelation 7: 9, 14-17 John 10: 27-30

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 12:37 PM.

April 21, 2007

3rd Sunday of Easter - Meal Time

I read an interesting book a while back that had an equally interesting title. It was called: Excavating Jesus! Now, don't be thrown off by that. The body of Jesus has not been excavated. If that were the case, we might have some explaining to do about the resurrection.

Actually, the book takes a look at the excavations that have been done in recent years in the towns and villages that Jesus frequented during his lifetime: Nazareth, Caesarea, Capernaum and Jerusalem. As you could guess they have found many sites and artifacts that are alluded to in the gospels. The scientists think, for instance, they have found portions of the synagogue in Nazareth. They have also unearthed typical Jewish homes along with cups, jugs, kettles, plates and other things. All that tells you that the folks in those days lived ordinary lives as we do. They had tables and beds, household articles for cooking and eating.

The archaeologists also found other things of greater historical interest: The family tomb and burial casket (ossuary) of the high priest Caiaphas. Also a slab of rock with the name of Pontius Pilate inscribed on it in his honor (It's nice to know that the man who had so much to do with Jesus' life actually lived.)

What I found particularly interesting was a picture of a dilapidated 8x26 foot boat that two men unearthed some years ago from the mud near the shore of the Sea of Galilee.

We don't know very much about the work that ordinary folks did in those times, but for sure we know that some people were fishermen, at least those who lived on the shores of the Sea of Galilee.

You also know the number of times boats and fishing and sudden storms are mentioned in the gospels. So, boats and fishing were pretty common in those times.

My point in all this is to say that I feel my faith strengthened when I read about how archaeology confirms many incidents that are described in the gospels.

So, I can just imagine how that incident in today's gospel about the number of fish caught and the breakfast on the shore of the lake happened. It just sounds very real to me. There was a charcoal fire with bread and fish being broiled on it. Jesus is the breakfast cook! He is a preacher and a worker of miracles but also a barbecue chef! It could all have happened as described.

But the question still arises: Why did the early Church and the gospel writer decide to put those ordinary events in the gospels?

Remember, first of all, the gospels were finally put to writing some 50 to 75 years after Jesus death. They come from the preaching that was done in one or another of those early Churches in Antioch or Damascus or other places. So, what we are reading by that time is some theology, some interpretation of the events of Jesus life.

In this case then you have a story that teaches something about the Eucharist. It's a kind of repetition of what Jesus did at the Last Supper. He took bread and gave thanks for it, and passed it around to the disciples to eat.

What that early preacher probably said to his flock, therefore, was something like this: "You folks remember the story of Jesus and the huge catch of fish and how Jesus fed his friends? Well, my friends, that is what Jesus is for us still today: He feeds us with word and bread and cup. Jesus is the bread of life." That's probably what one of those early sermons sounded like. Meals and eating played an important part in Jesus life. Jesus sat down to eat with anyone, friend or foe.

But sitting at table and eating for Jesus was not simply an opportunity to satisfy his hunger. For Jesus, meals were always a sign of something to come, namely the banquet in the kingdom of heaven.

That is the way I would also like to think of the meal we take together each Lord's Day. Like the disciples of Jesus that morning, we also come here hungry, hungry for a word of wisdom and for the refreshment of the Eucharist.

There is really no stronger symbol of our Catholic faith than when we come here together and gather around the table as a family of faith to eat and drink. But what we do here each Sunday is also a sign of something to come, the banquet in the kingdom of heaven.

All that might be worth thinking and talking about when you return home today and have your family meal. It's not just something to satisfy your hunger. Every meal is a sign of God's banquet in God's kingdom whether it's halibut or salmon or even burgers and fries. Eating is always a sign of something beyond the meal; it's a sign of the banquet that will last eternally.

The scriptures: Acts 5: 21-32. 40-41, Revelation 5: 11-14, John 21: 1-14

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 06:09 PM.

April 14, 2007

2nd Sunday of Easter - Faith and Flesh

As a priest I think a lot about Jesus; I hope that doesn't sound odd! I guess we all think a lot about Jesus. It's a normal thing for Christians and Catholics to do. After all, our entire Catholic life of faith is wrapped up in the one we call Son of God, the Lord, the Messiah.

Of course, there is also a lot we don't know about Jesus. The gospel writers never meant to write a full biography of Jesus' life; they are sketchy at best. Moreover, they come to us through the courtesy of those little Christian communities we call the early church, the ones mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles and the reading from the Book of Revelation which we just heard a moment ago. Each of them had a slightly different memory of Jesus that they wanted to pass on to us to keep our faith alive even in this the Twenty First Century.

The point is that our Christian faith depends in great part on what we have heard and learned from others. The church of history passes on its faith from one generation to the next.

Another question that often comes to my mind, especially on a Sunday morning when we are all gathered together like this is whether our church, this one here, resembles what Jesus had in mind when he said "On this rock I will build my church?" The church that quickly grew up after Jesus' resurrection was basically Middle Eastern, Jewish and gentile, the cultures and religions of that time. Today, there may be a dozen or more different nationalities and languages gathered for Mass on a typical Sunday morning. Look around! Did Jesus think about that, did the early apostles think that the Church would eventually look like it does today? It may not seem like an important question because we assume that the Church, like other organizations, grows with history.

The point I am trying to come to is that our Christian faith depends heavily on many human factors. We learn that, first of all, from the story of Thomas the apostle in today's gospel. Some over the centuries have called him a doubter, but my sense is that

Thomas was truly a man of faith. He obviously had spent some time with Jesus of Nazareth. He had known him personally, physically. He also knew that Jesus died in the flesh (as Paul says) so, how when Thomas' friends tell him that they have seen Jesus, he wants proof and the only proof he had, as he thought, would be to actually touch the physical body of Jesus. That would be proof enough. I'm sure any of us, given the same situation, would have said the same thing: Give me proof!

The fact is, of course, that we depend on material things all the time for proof of what we are searching for. We want to know, for instance, to whom we are talking to on the phone; we want to know whether the photo we are looking at represents the person whose name appears on the bottom. If a friend of a blind person says, "This is a flower," the blind person may say, "let me touch it," or "let me smell it." In other words, we humans are so much dependent upon our senses that we just have to put our trust in them. We have no other option. Usually, they do not deceive us.

So, my point here is that, as Catholics, as worshipers in Church each Sunday, we are much in the same position as Thomas was. We want to know about Jesus. That's why we are here. But, to be in touch with Jesus we depend on some very human factors: Our sense of sight, of hearing, of touch, even of smell. We taste bread and wine and we believe it to be the body and blood of Christ; we make an act of faith. We smell the rich odor of incense and believe that our prayers also rise up to God's sight. We hear lovely organ music, or a choir and our faith is given meaning by it. We look around and see each other sitting here and we say, "look, that person believes in Jesus like I do. That's a great source of faith for me. We all believe together."

Finally, we are all faced with a great mystery when we talk about faith. We say, "I believe" and we hope we are doing the right thing because we depend so much on simple human factors. In the end, our goal is not absolute surety; like Thomas, it’s about trust, trust that God will not deceive us.

St. Anselm of Canterbury, the great theologian of the Middle Age once made this comment about theology, that is, the search for God. "Theology," he said, is faith seeking understanding." I think that is the reason why we are here today, believers all, seeking understanding. Remember too what St. Paul once said to his parishioners: "We see now as though through a glass, darkly, but then (some day) face to face." Perhaps that's about all we can ask for now, just to see God even darkly with the promise that some day it will be clearly, face to face.

The scriptures: Acts 5: 12-16, Revelation 1. 9-11a, 12-13, 17-19, John 20: 19-31

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 04:33 PM.

April 07, 2007

Easter Sunday - All Things Tend to Rise

Some while back a friend of mine asked me a question about Easter. I thought it was going to be something really deep and theological, something I would need to look up in my library. Instead he just said: "Hey, when did Easter actually start?" I imagine he thought I was simply going to say: "Well, on a Sunday a long time ago." Actually, I didn't say that. Without trying to be smart, I simply said: "It started on a Thursday, the Thursday of the Lord's Supper." He said, "Why's that?" And I said: "Well, because all life hangs together, one thing leads to another. Nothing in life is ever completely independent and separate, by itself. I'm not sure he was satisfied with that answer, but he didn't ask any other questions.

Actually, truth be known, Easter began some weeks even before Holy Thursday: Historically, it began on the day Jesus confronted the buyers and sellers and threw them out of the temple. That's when the series of events that led to Easter began. That's when his eventual death began to loom on the horizon.

So, with all that, let me say that we have been celebrating Easter since last Thursday when we celebrated the Lord's Supper here in this Church. We call all this the Paschal Mystery, the great mystery of Jesus' suffering, death and resurrection all tied in together. The great culmination of all of these, of course, comes on the morning of the Resurrection.

Well, whether most Catholics know that Easter began on Thursday or not is immaterial. Christians, whether or not they know anything about the theology of the Resurrection, do know that there is something about Jesus resurrection that draws them back to church year after year.

I think there is a deep sense and intuition in peoples' souls that makes them believe that life is never ended, that death is never the last word in life. Why is it, for instance, that we keep getting up every morning whether we like it or not, whether we are ill or not, whether the day promises to be good or not? I think we get up because we have a deep sense that this day will be important, that we are called to do something good, something creative today, that the world expects something unique from us today.

Why is, for instance, it that doctors strive almost beyond their strength to save peoples' lives? I think it is not just some professional desire to prove that they can do something scientific. I think it is because they truly believe that life is precious and that it deserves to be saved if at all possible.

I could go even further and ask why spring happens every year. (odd question!). Geologically, I think it happens because death and life are built into the universe itself. Everything in this universe in which we live is subject to life and death. There is a certain dying and rising going on all the time. But the point is that death does not have the last word. Something new always seems to rise out of the ashes of the past.

So, how does Easter fit into all this? I think it fits in two ways. First of all, the resurrection did happen; Jesus did rise from the dead, or, as Scripture has it: "God raised Jesus from the dead." That is basically what we celebrate on the Sunday we call Easter. We believe that Jesus died and rose for us, for all humankind.

But, secondly, I believe that Jesus' resurrection can also be understood as a metaphor, a living symbol that God means for all life to die and rise. That does, indeed, happen, and I believe that we may use Jesus resurrection as a confirmation of it. If Jesus died and rose, we can all expect some day to die, but also to rise again.

I will go even further and say that Jesus' resurrection is the reason why Catholics continue to come back to church Sunday after Sunday, Lord's Day after Lord's Day, to celebrate their conviction that life is always meant to continue and Jesus' resurrection is the proof for it. This one human event in our world's history is so important that we can hardly expect to simply celebrate it as a once-only historical event. Easter is what theologians call the "Uhr Sakrament ", a transcendent or transcendental experience. It crosses all boundaries and all meaning "If Jesus lives, I will live, I will live eternally."

Thirdly, I think the reason why we continue to come here each Sunday, each Lord's day is because we believe that Jesus' resurrection is not simply a special privilege afforded to him. His privilege is the one that is afforded to each of us.

Finally, I think the resurrection of Jesus is so deeply engrained in us that we can't help but celebrate it in so many human ways: We dress "like spring," we eat and drink in a special way together as families, we greet one another with the words "He is risen." And the response is: "Yes, he is, indeed, risen."

And finally, I believe there is even something in nature itself that leads us to celebrate this day. Historically, Jesus' death and resurrection happened in the spring of the year. Spring is the time of year when we naturally think about new life because it is happening, bursting out all around us. We could hardly expect to celebrate Easter in the middle of winter, at least not in the Northern Hemisphere.

So, my friends, that is the reason why I think we are here this morning. Something deep inside us drew us here because life is all we have, life is all we have to look forward to and we need to celebrate it.

So, let us say again that Easter began on Thursday, but let us also be convinced that it continues on beyond Sunday after Sunday until one day until we will celebrate it together with the One whom we call The First-Born from the dead, Jesus Christ, Son of God.

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

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 04:30 PM.

June 04, 2006

Pentecost - Something Blowing in the Wind

A while back, shortly before Holy Week, I noticed some figures in a Catholic magazine predicting the number of people who were preparing to come into the Church at Easter: The article predicted that we could expect something like one hundred fifty thousand people to be baptized or to become full members of the Church. One thousand and thirty three in the Archdiocese of Washington, D.C. alone. Think of that! That's a pretty astonishing number. Practically every church, small and large,in the U.S., in the world will be welcoming at least several new members into its ranks.

I imagine most of us who have been Catholic since the day our own baptism might say, "well, that's not so astonishing; the Catholic Church has always been attractive to a certain small number of non Catholics. People keep 'dribbling in' from year to year, as they say."

But let me tell you that this is truly astonishing when you compare it to the so-called "old days" when one or two individuals each year might come to the local pastor and ask for "lessons."

One of the great accomplishments of the Second Vatican Council was to restore the "Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults (RCIA), a year-long process whereby non Christians or baptized non Catholics would choose to sit in the presence of other Christians for a period of a year or more and explore the gospels, listen to the stories and tell their own story, their journey of faith. So, this wasn't just a matter of someone sitting in the pastor's study, taking "lessons in being Catholic." It was a family experience, Christian congregations sharing their faith with other searchers and learners.

But you might say, what's so important about that? Well, first of all look at the numbers. The numbers of people coming into the Church since the beginnings of the RCIA have just exploded. Something really monumental is going on in the Church.

I would like to say, therefore, that I think all this has something to do with what we are celebrating today, the Feast of Pentecost, The coming of the Holy Spirit. You may say, "What? Today? Is the Holy Spirit still moving in our midst today? Well, we often imagine that the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost was a once-for-all "event," something that happened to the twelve apostles and has since been forgotten or at least has not had any visible impact on the life of the Church today.

However, the reason I say that the "wind" of the Holy Spirit is still blowing among us today is because that is exactly what Christ promised. He said: "Iwill be with you all days, even until the end of the world." In John's gospel Jesus also tells his disciples: "I shall ask the Father and he will give you another Advocate to be with you for ever, the Spirit of truth...The Holy Spirit whom the Father will send in my name will teach you everything."

That leads me to say, therefore, that God's Holy Spirit must still be active in the world today. Jesus promised not to leave us orphans (those were his exact words.) The question, however, is this: How do we know? How do we know that the "wind of the Holy Spirit" is still blowing today? Well, we simply need to look around for evidence.

First of all, some not so good pieces of evidence. Despite all our bungling throughout Christian history, we still manage to stay alive. Think how Christians have treated Jews over the years. Think about the Catholic Inquisition, the torture, the jailing and killing of "heretics." Think about the threat to the freedom of conscience. Think of the way the Church has treated creative thinkers, philosophers and scientists like Galileo and others. Think about the abuses that led to the Protestant Reformation, the selling of indulgences, the wars between Christian nations. Think even in our own time about what we have come to call the "Sexual Abuse Crisis," priests sexually abusing youngsters, bishops covering it up. The Church obviously has not had such a great record of living by the words of Jesus. I could go on and on about this.

And yet, the Church, still manages to stay alive. How so? I think it is by the guidance and the protection of the Holy Spirit. "I will not leave you orphans," Jesus promised.

But are there any good things in the history of our Church that we could point to and say: "This is pretty astonishing! It could only be the work of the Holy Spirit."

I would, first of all, point to good Pope John XXIII who called the Second Vatican Council which literally changed the face of the Catholic Church as we know it today. Just think how the liturgy has changed peoples lives, the language of the liturgy in our own tongue so that we could understand respond! All this has literally changed our Christian lives for the better. I think that is partially the reason why so many people are attracted to the Church today.

Or think about the many trips around the world that Pope John Paul took, the millions of people who celebrated Mass with him in open fields. I think that's pretty amazing.

But some will say, "Look how the number of vocations to the priesthood and religious life has been falling. Thousands of churches, large and small throughout the world have no priest to celebrate Eucharist with them. What about that?" I say, "perhaps that is also a sign that the Holy Spirit is moving among us, prodding the Church to think about new ways to look at priesthood and pastoral life. Today many Catholics say, "be bold, think outside the box," Perhaps that is what the Holy Spirit is asking us to do, "think outside the box for a change, think creatively, take a chance. indeed, perhaps the Holy Spirit is asking the Church to do something totally new with regard to ordination of priests!

So, what else is happening in the Church that we could lay at the "feet" of the Holy Spirit? Think about the numbers of lay people who are taking responsibility for the life of the Church today. Before the Second Vatican Council this was unheard of. Priests and bishops did everything. Today you will find both men and women in some of the highest levels of Church governance and in all kinds of pastoral positions. Could it be the Holy Spirit calling the laity to take on their baptismal responsibility?

Finally, I think about the role that the Church has taken in matters of justice and peace today, care for the poor and the oppressed. Think, for instance, what Catholic Charities USA is doing around the world today to assist in tragedies like Hurricane Katrina and other disasters.

Well, for me, all this adds up to the clear evidence that the Holy Spirit is indeed "blowing" in the Church and in the world today. There is no way we could have done all this alone.

In the end the question we need to ask is always the personal one: Is there anything spiritually exciting or new happening in your life these days? If there is, you can bet it's probably God's Spirit "blowing in the wind."

The scriptures: Acts 2: 1-11, 1 Corinthians 12: 3-7, 12-13 John 20: 19-23

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 02:20 PM.

May 28, 2006

Ascension of the Lord - Who's In Charge?

I suspect that one of the most difficult things most of us have to do sometime during out life is to leave home. That may sound odd because many young people can't wait to get out of the house and be on their own. The reality, of course, is that many young people, young adults, never leave home, or at least they keep coming back home, whether temporarily or for longer periods of time. It's all about economics, of course: It's cheaper to live at home than to rent an apartment or a condo. So, at least in some cases, parents need to say, "you're old enough to cook for yourself. Get our there, get a job, show some responsibility for yourself." That gets embarrassing for you, of course, when you are at age 35, for instance.

Emotionally, however, most of us do go through a period of separation, a moment when we have to admit that we can probably handle life on our own, but there is always a sense of anxiety, a moment when we have to look back and say: "That's the end of that part of my life." That's not an easy thing to say even though we may have had no difficulty making decisions about life all the way from our high school days.

The point is, changes in life are never easy, particularly if we do not yet have a clear sense of what is ahead for us or if we do not know if we have the skills and insights to carry on by ourselves.
It occurs to me to say that people in the military have a slightly easier time of it. When you enlist in the Army, Navy or Air Force, you know automatically that your fife will be outlined for you: Your training, your schedule, your living arrangements, your advancement in grade, et cetera. That's a better feeling, of course, than simply striking out on your own, wondering if you can handle life by yourself.

I can remember leaving home for good back in 1945, only weeks after having graduated from high school. Like other young men my age, I couldn't wait to get out of the house, but when the time came for my father to take me to the train station and to be off for basic training in far off Texas, I shed a few tears. Fortunately, if the Army had not made the decision for me when and where to appear for training, I might have thought twice about it. Leaving home for good is a decision that goes to the heart. We may appear brave on the surface, but down deep we have our apprehensions because we are not simply leaving a place, a house, a neighborhood, friends at home, but we are making a life decision that we can never turn around. The past will be past and that's it. A whole new way of life lies ahead of us and we need to embrace it whether we feel ready for it or not.
In my own case, I don't even remember praying for courage. The most difficult thing was to know that I was separating from my family and that our family would never be the same again.

All that I have been describing, of course, happens every day in someone's life and most people get through it just fine. But that doesn't mean that it was not a difficult emotional experience.
It often occurs to me to ask how Jesus must have felt when he decided to leave home and strike out on his own for the first time. (This excludes the time he decided to stay at the temple when his parents left Jerusalem without him.) After all, there is quite a difference between sawing boards and deciding to go out preaching the Kingdom of God. I often also wonder how Joseph and Mary felt when Jesus said one day: "Folks, I'm off to preach the Kingdom of God." They probably said, "what does that mean? You're going to do what? Come on, go out and get a real job!"

All humor aside, that is a good question because Jesus did, in fact, need to leave home at some point even though the gospels say nothing about it.

We do, however, have a little more historical evidence of Jesus' final leave-taking, not from home but from the little community that he had assembled over the past 2 or 3 years. The gospels tell us that Jesus spent 40 days with that community after his resurrection. Then the text says he was lifted up and disappeared from their sight. But just before disappearing he said something to them that tells us about his feelings at this point: He says: "Go out to teach and baptize and remember I will be with you all days until the end of the world. Now, we know for a fact that Jesus did finally leave this earth but you also get the sense that he wanted to stay, because his work was not finished. So, he tells his friends, the apostles, that they would need to finish it up and that he would still be there in spirit to support and strengthen them.

What that tells me is that Jesus did, in fact, not totally leave home, leave this earth, because the work wasn't over; it was simply put into different hands.

I think what we can gather from all this is that Jesus is still with his church whenever preaching and baptizing are done in this world. There are a lot of other things that are also done in our contemporary church, but all of them somehow are linked to preaching and baptizing, that is, to evangelization, spreading the good news of Jesus.

The important thing to remember about evangelization is that it is not merely a clerical task of bishops, priests and religious. All of us, clergy and laity, are empowered to spread Christ's word in the world. As a matter of fact, lay people are often better equipped to communicate Christ to other lay people than bishops and priests are.
It kind of surprises a person that Jesus should have left the work of his church to all of us, but he must have said: "Well,[ can't hang around here on earth forever, and I can't let this great work of God's kingdom just fall apart. So, I'm going to hand it on to others with the promise that I will still be around to support them."
I have a hunch that is the reason why the Church is still around after all these years. It means that we Christians have taken our job of evangelization seriously So, Jesus did not need to worry about leaving his home here on earth. He made sure that he had the "bases covered" before he left. All of us, of course, must some day part this earth and return to the Father, but if we have done our part to carry on the work of Jesus, our little task, then we can be sure that there will always be a church, even to the ends of the earth, as Jesus promised.

The Scriptures: Acts of the Apostles 1: 1-11, Ephesians 1: 17-23, Mark 16: 15-20

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 12:22 PM.

May 21, 2006

Sixth Sunday of Easter - Not To Choose Is To Choose

There are probably few things in our life that are more important to us than choosing and being chosen. Let's take the passive part of that assumption first: Being chosen. As youngsters in grade school or high school being chosen means everything. We imagine that our entire character, our individuality depends on it. To be passed over is no small matter Even as little kids it's important that we not get left out: In pick up ball games the worst embarrassment is to be left on the sidelines or to be the last and the least chosen to play a part in the game. That tells us something about the way we think about ourselves, it also says something about how we think people think of us. It is never a good thing. In high school, of course, there is always a lot of competition: Being chosen for the varsity team, being chosen as homecoming king or queen, being chosen to attend the best university in the country. That always makes us and our parents feel good.

Even in our adult years it is important that we be recognized for our work, our dedication. We like to "move up the ladder" and know that our efforts are appreciated

As people retire after many years of work it is good for them to know that they have meant something to the company they have worked for, that they receive the gold watch or whatever in recognition.

In short, throughout our life, we live on our identity, we guard and build our character. We want to be somebody and do something worthwhile. The worst thing that can happen to us is to have lived and never to have been known for anything worthwhile, never to have been chosen or recognized.

On the other hand, of course, there is the other side of the coin, the choices we make in life. We have all heard the phrase: "Not to choose is to choose." If we make no choices in life, choices will be made for us and that's not good.

Most of us make choices every day, of course, and probably do not even realize that we are doing it. But every choice we do make somehow affects the whole fabric of our life. In some cases a choice we have made or which has been made for us earlier in life sets us on a track that lasts a lifetime.

I think of my own life, for instance: When I was ready to attend high school, my mother decided that I should attend a local Catholic school rather than the public school which was closer by. I was devastated by that decision because I wanted to attend the school my classmates were planning to attend.

Looking back on that decision of my mother, however, I would have to say that it was probably the most wise decision she ever made (she probably did not realize it a the time, of course) In the process of attending a Catholic school I met priests and sisters, I became involved in doing "Catholic things," and somehow just absorbing Catholic culture. As 1 look back on all that today, I am sure l would not have thought of a vocation to the priesthood had I attended the local public school. It would not have entered my mind. It was just being in Catholic milieu that made all the difference. So, in this instance someone, my mother, made the choice for me, but it was the right one and one that has brought me to the place where I am still today.

Lay men and women also make choices every day in their lives. Perhaps the most important one is the choice to marry this particular person for life. Sometimes choices for marriage seem almost arbitrary, accidental: The right person just seems to be there at the right time. But perhaps that is all about grace.

Of course, we also have to admit that sometimes the choices we make are not in our best interests. Life is messy! But, again, not to choose is to choose. We have to trust our intuition even though it sometimes seems risky.

This leads us to a couple lines in the gospel for this Sixth Sunday in Easter season. Jesus makes the famous statement to several of his friends: "You have not chosen me, I have chosen you to go out and to bear fruit, fruit that will last." It seems evident that Jesus did deliberately make some choices about the people he wanted to have join him on the great adventure of preaching the Kingdom of God. Whether they actually knew what they were getting into is another question, but we know that some did follow Jesus: Peter, Andrew, James, John and others. Had they decided that their secular careers were too important to them, that fishing was their first love, one wonders what would have happened? Would Jesus have chosen some other people? Would we have the church today that we do have if things had gone differently, if Jesus had chosen different people? It kind of scares you even to think about that. Nonetheless, Christian history was set in motion when some ordinary individuals decided that they would trust their instincts and follow Jesus. Of course, it could have been entirely different too. It just seems as though when choices are made life begins moving in a particular direction and we will never know how it could have been if other choices had been made. All of which brings us to ask the question about Jesus' choices: He did make them, of course. We know, for instance, that when he began thinking about his future career after his baptism by John in the Jordan river, he went out into the desert to think things over. He spent 40 days and 40 nights reflecting on the famous call that he heard when John baptized him, when he heard that strange voice out of the heavens saying: "You are my Son, the Beloved. My favor rests on you." Jesus must surely have interpreted that as a call to do something special because we know that he did eventually follow that call, that choice and began preaching God's kingdom.

It may sound like a strange assumption, but it is interesting to wonder what would have happened if Jesus had not chosen to do what he did, if he had decided to follow the career of his father, a carpenter. We know, for instance, that his family, his mother, thought he was crazy to take the chances he did with his preaching and disturb the peace of the state and the temple. But he went ahead, as we know, and his choice ultimately led him to the hill called Calvary where he was crucified. Sometimes choices take us into strange and dangerous places, but what other choice do we have. Not to choose is to choose.

So, what is the lesson in all this? Simply to realize that we too are called to make choices not just once in life, but day after day. Some of our choices may be enlightened, others may be poor, but we must trust the insights and the gifts that God gives us and do something good in this world. Just drifting and floating is not a good choice. We need to stand for something, like Jesus did. One thing for sure, the world will be the better for it and our hearts will be at rest.

The scriptures: Acts 10: 25-26, 34-35, 44-48 1 John 4: 7-10, John 15:9-17

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 02:27 PM.

May 14, 2006

Fifth Sunday of Easter - Progress Report

I have had a lovely little plant sitting near my living room window for at least the last five years. I don't even know the name of it, but I do know that it grows pretty much without my supervision. Thank God for that! A while back, however, it just seemed to be spreading out all over the place, so I decided to cut it back a little. Wouldn't you know it, within a couple weeks the ends of the branches I cut off began to produce more shoots. No luck! So, I just gave up. I said to myself, "plants seem to do what they are created to do and I'm just getting in the way. So, I'll just let it grow and it will probably do fine without me." And it has.

But people who know anything about plant life and plant growth will tell you that a little tender care will make things grow even better than they do on their own.

Culling or cutting is an ancient art or craft. Farmers have found that they can help the process of making plants grow by cutting them back and in the process they turn out to grow even better on their own. Don't ask me what the chemical process is all about. I'm a small-time farmer at best.

But, as in all practical human endeavors, there is always some meaning in things beyond what we already know from casual observation. So often we will say, "That reminds me of something."

I notice that it turns out so often in the gospel that Jesus was a very astute observer of ordinary things and events around him. He often found meaning in those experiences even though they may not have been very important to others.

Wine-growing and vineyard production has been a main source of work, and pleasure in many parts of the world for centuries. Vineyards are referred to back as far as the Book of Genesis. "Noah, a tiller of the soil, was the first to plant the vine." We also know, of course, that Noah also imbibed a bit too freely of the fruit of the vine and became inebriated. Not the first or the last time for this to happen, of course.

By the time of Jesus, therefore, wine growing and vineyard work was a normal daily routine. In order to make the vines grow and produce good wine, there was the need to cut them back each year. The meaning of this process may have escaped the ordinary citizen, but not Jesus. He saw something in the growing of vines and vineyards that reminded him of his relationship to the little flock that had decided to follow him. Their relationship to him was very important, obviously. He depended on them for support and they on him as well. So, he simply tried to make it clear to them that they were all very much part of him of his great vision and of one another, like vines and branches are part of the vine I'm sure the disciples must have picked up on that immediately, having walked along the lanes where grape vines were growing and seeing farmers out with their cutting tools, culling back the branches.

Now, the point that always arises when we read the gospels is this: That's all very fine, of course, but how does it all fit today? How should we interpret all this in terms of how we understand ourselves as Christians in our age? How does it help us to understand our sense of Church today? Jesus, obviously, was not simply talking to the people of his own day. That would make no sense. So, that puts the question into our own laps. We, as Christians, need to ask, if Christ is the vine and we are the branches, what does that mean? How are we part of Christ? What does it mean to be "attached" to Christ?

The better question is, what does it mean to be part of this church, not simply the Mystical Body of Christ, but this little community I belong to, the only church I really know anything about? I think what it means in part is for to keep asking in every age, how can the church, even the little community we call our parish church, how can that community say that it is joined to Christ? Is it doing the things that Christ did? Does it have the mind of Christ? That, it seems to me, is the best way of evaluating ourselves and asking whether we are an effective Church or not.

If Jesus were to ask our church for a little "progress report", what would we say? Would we be able to say, "We’re still connected." We still are trying to do what we can to do the things you did in our own little ways. We are still trying to pay attention to folks who come to us looking for compassion and understanding, maybe for food and support too. That's what you did, isn't it Jesus? We are also trying to pay special attention to our 'little ones because they were special to you. In short, we are just trying to be your presence in the world because we are the only link between you and the world we live in each day." I think that's what we should be able to say if Jesus is the vine of which we are the branches, that is, if we truly believe that we are members of the Body of Christ.

Another question Jesus might ask us if he were doing a little "Progress Report" on us would be the question, "If you Christians consider yourselves branches of one vine, how are you getting along with each other? Is there unity among yourselves? Are you all supporting each other? I think Jesus could validly ask that sort of question and we might not always have a favorable answer because so often there are differences between us. So often in the past we have gotten into our little private enclaves of liberals and conservatives, liturgists vs. justice advocates and other little private "special interest groups."

My hunch is that Jesus, were he with us today, would be a bit depressed over the ways we so often disagree with each other and, indeed, even find unkind things to say about the positions others take on various issues.

Over all, that does not seem to fit the metaphor of the vine and the branches or Jesus' hope that we should all try to be one. If we are not bearing much fruit, as Jesus seems to suggest we should, then perhaps we need to ask, where's the progress? Is Jesus' great hope for the church in the world coming to anything?

We are also doing many good things, of course, individually and as a Church, but an occasional "evaluation" or "progress report" is always good for us. Jesus had great hope for us and he is obviously still with us. We can't very well get along without the vine, can we? Vine and branches is great metaphor even though we may know nothing about farming or the advantages of cutting branches. We have to learn to think beyond all that and get to the heart of what it means to be Church.

The scriptures: Acts 9: 26-31, 1 John 3: 18-24, John 15: 1-8

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 02:24 PM.

May 07, 2006

Fourth Sunday of Easter - Total Dedication

A while back a popular movie made the rounds of theaters around the country, receiving a considerable number of positive reviews in Catholic and secular magazines. It was also a big winner at the Academy Awards ceremonies. The name: Broke Back Mountain, a catchy name. Part of the reason for its popularity is the subject matter itself: It tells the tale of two-out-of-work cowboys, who accidentally meet seeking a job herding sheep high in the mountains of Wyoming. Once beginning their work, they realize that they are developing a close attraction for each other. The gist of the plot, therefore, concerns the fact that they are gay which poses a conflict with their desire also to marry and raise a family. In the end it turns into a modern tragedy: They realize that they need to terminate their relationship, but in the process their relationship with their own families also breaks apart and ends. Broke Back Lives

I leave the issue of gay relationships to others better qualified to speak of them than I. Nonetheless, the story illustrated for me the depths and sometimes conflicting human attractions that can complicate our lives and our conviction also that we need to be faithful to our word and to those to whom we have committed our lives. The title of the film, therefore, is apt: All our human relationships have a tendency to be frail and sometimes to break up despite our best intentions.

The reason, however, why I chose the image of Broke Back Mountain to introduce these words on this Fourth Sunday of Easter season is because of a sub plot in the film: The two cowboys are hired to spend an entire summer by themselves high in the mountains caring for a large herd of sheep. They find themselves torn on the one hand between living up to their contract to keep the sheep together and on the other hand to struggle with their growing attraction and affection for each other. In the process the sheep are, at least on one occasion, left to fend for themselves in the midst of a snow storm and being exposed also to the threat of roving coyotes and bears.

For people who seldom see large herds of sheep in rural settings and the effort it takes to keep them together this film can be an eye-opener. The two cowboys who suddenly become sheep herders discover that this is a task that demands constant attention day and night by turns. Weather can also make life miserable for both herders and sheep. The hours are long, the living conditions esthetically beautiful but primitive, the pay minimal, separation from friends and relatives a given. All of which makes you ask why anyone would want to take on a job like this, to say nothing of making it a life career. The answer, of course is dedication. You have to love sheep if you want to take on a job like this. Without dedication, you will be a very unhappy person. I'm not convinced that the cowboys in the film had this dedication, but in the ideal world of sheep herding, this is what it would take.

Americans, of course, are not the first to discover sheep herding and its attendant unpleasantries. The people of the Middle East have been engaged in sheep and goat herding for centuries. It is one of the main-stays of family life in that desert land. I'm sure it has never been a profitable career, but simply provided small families or clans with sufficient resources to live.

Jesus, of course, knew something about sheep and herding, although, I suspect he viewed it from a distance. Nothing in the gospels says that he wanted to take on this career. Nonetheless, Jesus had a great admiration for the men (women?) who did this kind of work, again for their dedication, their willingness to put their lives on the line for their sheep.

I can just imagine Jesus, watching these herders from a distance, saying to himself: "Now, this is a model of the way everyone should be living. We all ought to learn a lesson from herders because they seem to have a personal interest in these animals that depend on them to keep them safe, provide food, get them back into the corral at night, guard the gate and all the rest. And in the process, they get little in return except the "gratitude" of the animals."

What I am saying is that Jesus was attentive to life around him. He was always finding examples in daily life that provided him metaphors for what he called the Kingdom of God. Some examples were obviously more apt than others, but everything in the world provided Jesus with a story about God and our relation to God.

Several insights come to mind from Jesus' use of shepherding as a metaphor for life. First of all, there are people among us who are natural leaders: People in the world of politics, education, business, law, medicine. Parents too, people who have the responsibility of caring for others, particularly those who depend on them for responsible leadership. As we know, that ideal does not always work out in practice. But even in a less than perfect world it is an ideal that we could expect to be followed; it goes with the job. Of course, many people don't think of their role in life that way. It's often a responsibility they feel they deserve, sometimes even "paid" for. Hence, there is often little personal dedication to the ideals of their mission. That means, of course, that the rest of us need to "hold their feet to the fire" and demand that they live up to the responsibility which is inherent in the position they hold,

And then, of course, there are the rest of us. We aren't exactly helpless sheep, fortunately, but we are definitely a "flock", that is what the Catholic Church has been called for centuries, “the flock of Jesus Christ." Which means, of course, that we belong to one another, that we depend not only on our shepherds, but on one another as well. We are a "world-wide-web" as the communication industry insists. Which means, of course, that as members of this body we call Christian we are responsible for each other, we are literally shepherds and sheep at the same time, whether we believe it or not.

Anyway, it's nice that we have one Sunday in the Church year to remind us of all that: We call it Good Shepherd Sunday: Christ the shepherd, we the sheep. There's much to learn from that rich and simple metaphor.

The scriptures: Acts 4: 8-12, 1 John 3: 1-2, Jon 10: 11-18

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 02:19 PM.

April 30, 2006

Third Sunday of Easter - Table Manners

I realize that it is not the polite or mannerly thing to do, but watching people when they do not know you are watching them can be an interesting and instructive activity. You do not want to get caught at it, of course. It could be embarrassing. Nonetheless, in certain situations, you can learn a lot about people in their unguarded moments.

One situation where stealing a look at a couple or a group can be instructive is in restaurants, places where people are eating together. It gives you the opportunity to wonder what brought these people together? What is going on in their lives? Even by the look on their faces you can get the sense that something important is going on, whether they look pleasant, smiling, dour and forbidding. Their looks give them away.

When people are eating together you know that they are not simply eating together; the food may not even be the primary reason why they are here in this restaurant. They came to this place so that they could get something done, formal or informal, casual or serious.

Meals, obviously, are the context for lots of other things people do. We use meals for a purpose that often has little to do with physical nourishment: We have all heard of "power lunches", for instance, meals where serious decisions are made. Politicians sponsor dinners which may cost you a couple thousand bucks to support their campaigns. Then, of course, there are always the other special meals that celebrate special events: Birthdays, anniversaries, retirements, weddings, engagements and all the rest. In many instances 1 suspect that if you asked the folks afterwards how the food tasted, they would tell you, "Hey, I actually can't remember what we had to eat; I was too busy talking to people, enjoying the evening."

Now, that's the interesting thing about meals. We seem to need them to get other things done. We might actually be able to get those things done without a meal, but the actual eating seems to help the whole process of wrapping-up what we have come to do. It's a long-standing custom going back who knows how far.

Another interesting thing about meals is that they can be "moments of transparency" You can see clearly what is happening in the fife of your table partner when you eat together with them. You put down our defenses when you eat; the meal covers your anxieties or whatever may be of concern to you at this moment.

I suspect all that I have been saying has been going on for centuries because it is such a common thing that people do.

The Jewish and Christian scriptures which we are all familiar with have many references to meals. The customs in Middle Eastern culture made a big thing out of inviting friends, perhaps even enemies to your tent to share meat and bread and wine. A word which scripture scholars often use is commensally, sharing your table with someone. In the harsh and dangerous conditions of desert-life, it would have been unheard of to refuse a traveler a drink of water and a meal. You may not have been on the most friendly terms with this person, but you would surely not deny him hospitality if he were passing through.

It have also often wondered why there are so many references in the gospels to the situations where Jesus took meals with others, sometimes with people who were complete strangers, other times with people who were not politically or religiously on the most friendly terms with him. I have to say that there must have been something more to these occasions than Jesus simply sitting down to lunch or dinner with them. The reason I say that is because each time Jesus does take a meal with others, there is something going on, usually a conversation about some disputed topic. It always seems that Jesus had something to share at these meals. Remember, the scene in the home of Martha and Mary? Mary sat listening to Jesus. What was he saying? Who knows, but it must have been interesting because the gospel states that Mary sat at the feet of Jesus, listening intently. I'd like to have been around to hear that little conversation.

During these post-Easter Sundays we find another interesting activity going on. Jesus meets his friends after his resurrection to let them know that he is still alive. In several instances he proves this, once by making a char-broiled fish breakfast on the beach for them, and on another occasion he meets his friends and asks them whether they have anything to eat. "They gave him a piece of baked fish," the text says. The implication seems to be that Jesus wants to make it clear that if you see someone eating, he must be alive! Simple assumption!

I also find it interesting that one of the last things Jesus did before his death was to have a meal. We call it the Last Supper, of course, but it was actually the Passover Supper which every Jewish family celebrated in the spring of the year as a remembrance of their delivery from slavery in Egypt.

I think it is worth remembering too that when Jesus wanted to leave a memory of himself for future generations, he celebrated this same meal and said: "Do this in memory of me." Continue doing this and when you do, I will be with you.

So, that is what we have been doing all these centuries, remembering Jesus in the breaking of the bread and the passing of the cup.

Unfortunately, the Mass is often thought of as a ritual, a rite and it does not seem to have the characteristics of an actual meal. Nonetheless, the symbolism is clearly there: Food and drink, a common table where the family comes together in peace to eat and drink.

Finally, that leaves us with a question about all the other meals we take together each day, each week: Are they anything more than simply the opportunity to eat and drink, to satisfy our hunger? Are they, could they truly be "home Eucharist," opportunities to share not only food, but what is of deepest concern to each other?

You know, it is interesting to notice that of all the occasions when we cannot escape each other's presence, the dinner table seems to be one such instance. We literally have to lift up our eyes from the plate and look each other. I suspect that even looking at each other can also be a kind of nourishment, don't you think? Just don't stare!

The scriptures: Acts of the Apostles 3: 13-15, 17-19, 1 John 2: 1 -5, Luke 24:35-48

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 02:15 PM.

April 23, 2006

Second Sunday of Easter - "Take it From Me"

I am not ordinarily much of a "Prime Time" TV watcher. There are too many good books and periodicals to read. But once in a while, for a change, l may watch CSI (Crime Scene Investigation) or one of those other murder investigations. The work of those investigators always seems pretty professional, the way it's probably done in so-called "real life", whatever that may mean.

What strikes me about those programs is the attention they pay to bodily evidence to solve the crime, little things that anyone other than a forensics expert would probably miss entirely. In short, the body, dead or alive, can tell you a lot simply by looking at it.

Of course, we all know a little something about our own body and body language! Our bodies speak volumes. People, for instance, can tell in a moment by looking at us how we are feeling, sad or happy, worried or complacent. We can't help it; our body gives us away. Look around, for instance, in church, when the Sunday homily is going on a bit longer than usual: People get "antsy", they shuffle around in their seats, and they are getting impatient. If the preacher notices that, he may decide to terminate his remarks in a hurry; people have probably stopped listening anyway. The point I am making is that the body communicates whether we notice it or not. For CSI investigators, even dead bodies communicate something.

Another way of communicating, as we all know, is by word of mouth. It's the primary method for us humans to be in touch with someone. One of the main factors that make this kind of communication possible is the assumption that whoever is talking to us is telling us the truth. If we cannot depend on that, then the world is in real trouble!

Of course, we all know that a lot of lying goes on every day too, especially in the political arena (good word!). Seldom, of course, will they admit to lying; it's a bad word. They will not even admit to "wrong-doing." That's also too incriminating. But for the most part we do depend on the truthfulness of others to carry on the world's and our personal business. It's the only option we have and it's a good one.

What all this comes down to is the fact that we are all flesh and blood beings in this world. Everything depends on what we can see, touch, feel and hear. For the most part, we always trust our senses. They can tell us a lot.

As we all know, of course, we also depend a lot on material things out there to tell us something: It's all about symbolism, sign, language! We who are Catholic know all about that: Our churches are filled with statues, stained glass windows depicting sacred images; our sacraments only make sense because they are material signs of the sacred. We can learn a lot about our faith simply by walking into a church and looking, listening, even smelling the incense used in rituals.

All I've been saying then is meant to lead us to an understanding about discovering Jesus again...in signs. That is what the season of Easter is all about, discovering the risen Jesus Christ today.

The gospel story today about Thomas the Apostle and his problem believing that Jesus was still alive is one of those classical examples of believing in the flesh. Now, let us not assume that Thomas was simply not too bright or that he had to have hard-edged proof for everything. Any of us who have been present at a funeral are obviously convinced that what we are "viewing" is a deceased person. This was Thomas's problem. He knew clearly that Jesus had been subject to capital punishment. He died on a cross. To be asked to believe then that Jesus was still alive was something of a stretch.

So, I suggest that Thomas was not so much a doubter or a cynic as he has always been portrayed in Christian history. He simply wanted physical proof that his assumptions were wrong, that Jesus was still alive.

So, what happens? Two things: First, the other apostles say to him: "Take our word for it, Thomas, he's still alive." Then, seven days later when the whole group is together again, Jesus himself appears, and says (in so many words) "Thomas, if you could not take the word of your friends about me, here, take your finger and trace the wounds on my body. That should clear up all your doubts." And, of course, we know the end of the story. Thomas touched Jesus' body and was convinced he was till in touch with the Jesus he once knew "in the flesh."

Now, this story and the others you will hear in the next few weeks of Easter season are not just little pieces of history. They are what we call pieces of theology, stories to help us to believe. It's not that we are all a bunch of doubters, obviously, but trying to be a believing Christian is not an easy thing. Everything we read in the gospels about Jesus we accept on the word of others. Everything we believe depends on the truthfulness of our history, on human persons who have passed it all down to us. That may all sound like a pretty tenuous stretch to make, but it's literally all we have. As I mentioned above, all our relations with each other depend on the words we share, even our body language, our truthfulness in searching for the meaning of life.

Finally, John, the gospel writer who handed this story of Thomas on to us, ends his gospel with a beautiful little piece of explanation. He wants to tell us why he went to all the trouble to pass on the story of Jesus. Here is what he says: "Jesus performed many other signs as well---signs not recorded here---in the presence of his disciples. But these have been recorded to help you believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, so that through this faith you may have life in his name."

What he is saying is this: "Friends, I have put all this down on paper because I know that you who read this down through the centuries may have a hard time believing it. I'm just telling you what I saw and heard, all those signs Jesus left us. It's all to help you believe that Jesus was who he said he was, the Son of God. Take my word for it. I'm still trying to figure it all out myself.

The scriptures: Acts of the Apostles 4: 32-35, 1 John 5: 1-6, John 20: 19-31

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 02:03 PM.

April 16, 2006

Easter Sunday - How Many Years Was Easter Sunday?

I can remember a conversation I had with a lady some years ago around this time of year and she was saying to me, "You know, it's really a shame what they have done to Easter." By "they" I assumed that she meant the commercial or the advertising world, or something such. So, I said to her, what do you mean "what they've done to Easter?" She said, "well, you know, all those silly things like Easter bunnies, Easter egg searches for the kids, women wearing silly-looking hats only on Easter Sunday, Easter ham, Easter bread, Easter candy, all that stuff." I said, "Well, it's true, but look what they have also done to Christmas." But then I went on to say to her: "I think there might be something behind all these customs that people don't realize at first." "Odd as it may sound," I said, "I think it has something to do with resurrection. We have never been able to figure out exactly what Jesus resurrection means, so, instead, we try to find natural human symbols or customs that speak about it. I think that's what it's all about: When you are faced with mysteries, you always depend on symbols, simplistic as they may sound, to help you understand what you don't understand."

So, what is Easter all about? What are Easter eggs and chocolate bunnies and flowered hats all about? Well, strange as it may sound, these symbolic actions are about the human inclination, indeed the eternal longing, for everlasting life. They are about resurrection, not necessarily Jesus' resurrection only, but all our resurrections, the belief that all of us were created for eternal life. If that's not the case, what are we doing here this morning, why do we "go to Mass" every Sunday, indeed, why do we even get up out of bed in the morning at all?

Perhaps one of the things that make it so hard for us to understand the experience of resurrection is that we have the sense that this was a miracle, this was something that God did for Jesus alone because Jesus is literally the Son of God. So, resurrection is often seen as a special gift or privilege for God's only Son, whereas it was actually meant for all of us.

Secondly, resurrection is such a mystery for us because we may think of it as "resuscitation", that is, the raising up of a dead body, the deceased body of Jesus. But there is a difference between resuscitation and resurrection. One scripture scholar put it this way: "Resuscitation never happened. Resurrection always happens." Resuscitation means that a dead body is brought back to life, only to die again someday. Resurrection means that Jesus died physically, but continues to live with us, not in a physical, bodily sense but, as the theologians say, in his glorified body, a body that transcends time and place, a body that can be experienced without flesh and blood.

In other words, if Jesus Christ meant to be with us until the end of time, then a physical body would not be the means whereby he would be able to do this. Jesus lived in a physical body just like we do. But physical bodies simply are not built nor created to live for ever.

But that does not mean that we do not want to live for ever. If I were to ask any of you individually whether you want to live for ever, you would say, "absolutely; I can't imagine living, then dying and passing out of existence for ever. Why was I created in the first place, just to live for a few short years and then die and be forgotten?" That's a pretty depressing thought, and none of us believes it, I'm sure.

So, even though none of us really understands everlasting life, we long for it and believe that it does happen. For instance, why do we continue working at our jobs every day, even though they are boring and don't always seem to have much future? Why do we struggle to maintain our good health every day? Why do we plan for our future and our children’s future if this world is all there is? Why do we dream about better days when we fall ill? In short, we all say to ourselves: "If God could raise Jesus Christ from the dead, why not me? Why should I be left out of the loop? I want to live forever too."

The point, therefore, is that there is nothing wrong with searching for signs and symbols which seem to speak to us about eternal life. Is that not why we listen attentively to the scriptures each Sunday when they are proclaimed? Is that not what receiving sacred bread and cup at Eucharist means? Or again, on a less theological level? Why is it that parents are so delighted at the birth of their first child? Isn't it because they now know that there is a future of some kind for their family, if not eternal, then at least for now, for an "earthly-moment?"

There is an interesting line in the gospel for this Easter day. Mary Magdalene comes to the tomb and does not find the body of Jesus. She goes back to the apostles and says: "They have taken the body of my Lord and I do not know where they have laid Him." Mary obviously thought that someone had absconded with the physical body of Jesus and that she would never see him again. And yet, we know that Mary and the other disciples continued to experience Jesus on a number of occasions later on, albeit in rather mysterious ways: Entering through a locked door, preparing breakfast on a beach, to name a few. In other words, Jesus continued to be with them in a different, non-physical way. It took an act of faith to understand all that, of course.

So, Mary Magdalene's complaint that she did not know where they had laid the body of Jesus, that complaint should not be ours. We may not know where the physical body of Jesus lies, (it doesn't lie anywhere) but we should surely know where the Mystical Body of Christ lives each day. It walks in our own feet, in the feet of the Body of Christ, the Church. It walks wherever love and healing and teaching and feeding and compassion and care are going on. In short, resurrection always happens, it keeps on happening wherever we try to make Christ present again and again. In a sense, the resurrection-life of Jesus Christ continues because he depends on us to make it present in our world today.
"Wow," you will say, "that's a huge responsibility!" True enough, but ultimately it is easier to believe in the power of the resurrection than in the meaning of bunny rabbits and chocolate eggs! So, when someone asks you how many years are Easter Sunday, you can tell them, "don't start counting, Easter is for ever and so are we."

The scriptures: Acts 10:34.37-43, Colossians 3: 1-4, John 20:1-9

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 02:09 PM.

May 11, 2005

Pentecost: It's All About Communication

I’m sure that there are not many people in the world, unless they are professional writers or speakers, who need to come up with a fresh piece of writing or a speech every week. It’s done, of course, and we seem to expect that it will happen in whatever media we are talking about.

My hunch is that many Catholics (or non Catholics for that matter) do not realize how tough it is to come up with a fresh homily every week. We have hardly finished last Sunday’s and already we have to start thinking about next Sunday’s. And, of course, the folks in the pews expect something fresh and exciting, original, even humorous every week.

Andrew Greeley, the Chicago priest and sociologist, says that more people leave the Catholic Church because of poor homilies than for any other reason. No one has ever told me that, but it could be true for all I know.

But homilies are important: For many Catholics, this is the only exposure they will have to scripture, to Catholic teaching or even spiritual encouragement for the coming week. So, it’s important, even though it may be tough to come up with something original each week.

Why is this important? It’s important because it’s all about communication, about evangelization, spreading the good news about Jesus Christ and the Church. Preaching covers about 90 percent of what we would call Christian adult education. Lots of folks have so little time to read Catholic newspapers or magazines. So, the Sunday homily is critically important for Catholic, spiritual health.

The scriptures for some Sundays are obviously easier to preach on than others and feast days as well. But there are several feasts during this time of the liturgical year that seem particularly difficult to work from. I’m thinking of two: Today’s feast of Pentecost is one. The feast of the Holy Trinity is another.

What’s so tough about preaching on Pentecost? Well, Pentecost is all about the Holy Spirit, obviously, and what can one say about spirit (Spirit)? Oddly enough, we once used the word Ghost (Holy Ghost) and, at least, ghost brings up images of creatures draped in sheets! But, of course, that did not help much in crafting a homily.

So, what has to happen when one talks about Spirit, about God’s Holy Spirit, is that we have to appeal to metaphors, to analogies to help us understand, all the while knowing that we have not actually addressed the Holy Spirit as Spirit exists. But we have to start somewhere and where do we start?

We hear the word spirit being tossed around all the time: We instinctively know when our “spirits” are low or high; we know that the moment we get out of bed in the morning. We know too when a particular sports organization has the right spirit. When an underdog team beats the best team in the league, we say it was all due to their spirit. Notice, we haven’t said anything here about a definition. We just assume that everybody knows what Spirit is when we use the word. Perhaps it has something to do with an interior disposition, a hidden desire, and a drive for excellence. Schools often use the word in that way: Notre Dame, they say, has a great football spirit. (At least when they are winning!) High schools live on spirit. Their cheerleaders go through all sorts of gyrations to bring up the spirit of the team.

So, what can we say about the Holy Spirit? Well, Jesus did not give any definition. The apostles and the early Church did not have a definition. But when you read the scriptures you immediately know that something was going on, something was happening on that momentous day. The scriptures from the Acts of the Apostles says that the spirit of the disciples of Jesus was pretty low. They were “hanging” out behind closed doors not knowing what they should do next. They had no clue about founding the Church or about preaching or anything else.

Suddenly, the text says that there was tremendous wind that blew through the house. (Wind and spirit are synonymous words.) A fire came down on them and they became “fired up,” to use a modern word. Whether this was real wind or real fire, we do not know. But what we do know is that they suddenly felt a new sense of direction, a call, a sense of courage; they were “inspirited,” if you will.

It was only after that experience that things began to happen. And what happened? Well, they began to go out and preach Christ, to spread the good news. Nothing could stop them; they could not even begin to stop themselves. They were just full of the Spirit.

When I think about preachers who are full of the Spirit, I often think about Robert Duval, the actor who once directed and acted in a film called “The Apostle.” It was a story about a pastor from a “big time” Texas church who got in trouble, lost his job and had to go out to find a new church. He ended up going to Louisiana and fixing up a little run down backwater building. People began to come, but he had to learn a new way of preaching, like the Pentecostal preachers in that area. Well, he learned it alright and he gradually got a little group of folks together who waited each week for this man who was full of wind and fire to come and preach God’s word. I thought of that film as an example of a new Pentecost.

We Catholics are not much used to such Pentecostal preaching, except for the occasional “man of fire,” Bishop Fulton Sheen (of happy memory) Catholic preachers are more doctrinal in their presentation rather than emotional. I imagine we feel that an emotional message does not last very long once you have left the church. We would rather teach than “excite” people.

But let us also say this about the coming of the Holy Spirit: It came down on certain individuals, obviously, but it came upon them for the sake of the Church. We say today that the Church, the people of God, are filled with the Holy Spirit, not only on Pentecost, but all the time. The gift is always there, just waiting to be used.

So, the point is, if you can see something happening in the Church, it has to be the work of the Holy Spirit: Whenever the Church, the local community, pays attention to whatever needs to be done around them, the Holy Spirit is at work. When the poor are fed, the downtrodden lifted up, the lost given direction, the young given attention, when all these things happen we can say for sure that the Holy Spirit is at work.

If we were to ask for a recent piece of evidence of the Holy Spirit’s presence in the Church, I would point to the events of Pope John Paul’s death, burial and the election of Pope Benedict’s election. You could just get a sense that something was happening in the Church, whether in Rome or throughout the world. There was a kind of fresh wind blowing when the new Pope was elected and we suddenly knew that there was a future for our church. We were not left without a shepherd.

So, the point I am making is that we have sure evidence of the Holy Spirit’s continued presence in the Church when there is progress, when the Church pays attention to the signs of times and does something about it.

Finally, if Pentecost is the “birthday of the church” as we say it is, then like all our birthdays, we should begin thinking about the year ahead and imagine what our Church could become if only we let the wind blow through us and the fire come down upon us.

There is still so much work to be done in this world. If we decide we want to get at it, we can be sure the Holy Spirit will not let us down. We are never orphans, never have been, never will be. It’s the Spirit’s promise.

The Scriptures: Acts of the Apostles 2: 1-11; 1 Corinthians 12: 3b-7, 12-13; John 20: 19-23

Posted by Deacon Eric Stoltz at 02:45 PM.

May 08, 2005

Ascension: View from the Top

As an outdoors person, it has often occurred to me that mountains play a big part in our lives: For some who do not particularly like mountains, they are simply a hunk of land that we have to get through to reach our destination.  For others, they are a challenge to climb and the steeper they are the better.  For others still, they (at least the tops) are a place in the world few people reach and where fewer people will be able to reach you! They are also places of reflection, contemplation, meditation. Nonetheless, the top is not a place where you want to stay very long, particularly, if a storm is brewing.
 
For yet other people throughout history, mountaintops have been places or metaphors for communication with God. Perhaps that is because a mountain top is at least somewhat lifted above the plain, a place where there is no interruption from the world. But ultimately, mountaintops are considered places where God communicates with us and vice versa. Perhaps it’s the rarefied atmosphere.

I often think of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. who spoke so eloquently of going to the mountain top. Remember the famous speech he gave at the Mason Temple in Memphis, Tennessee on April 3, 1968, the very day before he was assassinated?  Here is what he said on that evening:  “I’ve been to the mountaintop, and I just want to do God’s will.  God allowed me to go up the mountain.  And I’ve looked over.  And I’ve seen the promised-land…and I’m happy tonight.  I’m not worried about anything…Mine eyes have see the coming of the glory of the Lord.”  Such great lines from a holy man and a world-class orator!
 
We also have another example of a mountaintop experience in the Old Testament, the story of Moses who traveled to the mountain called Horeb with his people, and from the bottom he was called to come up to receive the Commandments.   Notice, once again, that holy errands are accomplished on high places because that is where God meets us. Mountaintops are the places where the Law is given.
 
Lastly, we have an example of an experience on a mountain between Jesus and his apostles.  No name is given to the mountain. It could later have been named the mount of the Transfiguration.  At any rate, Jesus called the disciples there, ostensibly because it would be a quiet place where an experience of the holy could take place.
 
Nonetheless, even given all those mountaintop experiences which have a special meaning and significance, we know that people do not remain on mountains for very long.  They ultimately come back down to the flat land, to the place where the rest of humanity gets on with its daily activities, secular and sacred.
 
Take the example of Dr. King again as an example:  Although he said he had been to the mountaintop, he came back down where there was still so much work to be done, whether in Selma or Atlanta or Birmingham or Washington, D.C.  Nothing could have been accomplished by staying on top and hoping that things would change down below. There was work to be done, obviously.
 
It turned out that Jesus and his apostles also knew that they could stay on the mountain for only a short time. Life even might have become a little boring, sitting around with nothing to do.  We humans are creatures of action.  Indeed, we sometimes have guilt feelings if we are not accomplishing something “worthwhile.”
 
But this much we do know from reading the rest of the gospel accounts: Jesus did expect his apostles to get on with the work he had started.  Indeed, the angel in white in the story asks the apostles why they are standing around looking up in the sky.  “This Jesus, they say, who has been taken up from you into heaven will return in the same way as you have seen him going into heaven.”  We might get the sense from this that Jesus planned to return to check and see what progress the apostles and even the church of our times was making, fulfilling Jesus’ vision for all humanity.
 
So, the question the Ascension experience leaves with us is this:  What are we doing with Jesus’ kingdom in these in-between-times?  Can people still recognize Jesus’ presence and work in the world today?
 
Part of the answer to that question became clear to me at the death of Pope John Paul II and all the commentaries about him that appeared in the public press.  When one gathers them all together, it just seems such an astonishing thing to see all that he had accomplished in those 26 years. Even his travel miles added up to several trips to the moon!  It is no wonder so many people went to Rome for the funeral or watched it all on television. He just touched so many people in those few short years of his papacy.
 
All this tells me that here was a man who took Jesus’ command seriously to go out to the ends of the earth to build the kingdom. He surely did not simply stand around looking up into the sky, waiting for a word, a clue as to what should be done next in the world.
 
Not only that, John Paul did not think that work or activity was the only priority.  Several of the commentators made the point that he would spend at least one hour before Mass every morning on his knees or even prostrate on the floor praying for the people of the entire world. He had a giant map on his wall and would look up at the various nations or countries he was praying for that day. He was convinced that prayer preceded action and that both were needed to bring Christ to the world.
 
All that, of course, leaves us with a persistent question:  Are we standing around, looking up in the sky waiting for some word from Jesus about what we should do next?  The fact is, we don’t need messengers in white to tell us what to do, and it will be clear enough to us.
 
Finally, one last word about Pope John Paul: It seemed clear enough from his life and work that he was convinced that this world is the place where Christ will return and where Christ expects us to make an impact. John Paul did not spend the entire day in prayer. He spent himself in the service of anyone who came to visit, whether kings, presidents or commoners.  This was the world for John Paul. Most of our work will probably not be meeting and conversing with notable people, but rather with the little people who will turn to us for a kind word, a bit of advice or a listening ear to hear their problems. Most problems and human tasks are earthly realities, things going on around us. If we know where to look, they will soon become evident. Once seen, there is no way we can avoid getting to work on them. It’s all part of the process of coming down off the mountain.
 
The scriptures:
Acts of the Apostles 1: 12-14; 1 Peter 4:13-16; John 17: 1-11
 

Posted by Deacon Eric Stoltz at 02:58 PM.

May 01, 2005

Sixth Sunday of Easter: When We Need Help

On March 19 of this year Johnnie Cochran died of a brain tumor at is home in Los Angeles. Johnnie Cochran was born in Shreveport, Louisiana, the great grandson of slaves and the grandson of sharecroppers and the son of an insurance salesman.
 
Johnnie Cochran was a debater by nature from his high school days and eventually attended U.C.L.A. and became a famous attorney.
           
Not a lot of people had ever heard of Johnnie Cochran until he defended O.J. (whom we all know!) and managed to get an acquittal in a murder case.  From that time on Johnnie Cochran’s name became famous.
           
What many people do not know, however, is that Johnnie Cochran not only defended the rich and the famous.  For many years after law school he was well known as the one to whom ordinary folks, especially, the poor, could go if they needed someone to defend them in court.  And defend them he did. He was known all over L.A. particularly in East L.A. as the advocate or legal counselor for the poor and disadvantaged.

Many legal professional people, of course, like Johnnie Cochran are ordinarily known as lawyers or attorneys. But their true vocation could be better described as advocate or counselor because that, indeed, is what they do, they “go to bat” for people, they counsel people who have legal problems and have no one else to give them help and advice.
           
I have not always been a great devotee of lawyers (and I have taken my part in not a few “lawyer jokes.”) but I must say that that the calling deserves respect.  We need such people in the world where violence and law-breaking is often the norm rather than the exception.  So, let us raise our voices in praise for advocates and counselors.
           
I imagine the word counselor or advocate must be a very ancient title given to such folks: I’m sure, for instance, that there were advocates in ancient Athens, Rome or Constantinople in those days.
           
It is not unlikely then that we should find such a word in the gospels, particularly, because the gospels were translated out of the Hebrew into Greek in those early days.
           
So, in the gospel for today’s liturgy we hear Jesus telling his disciples that he will not leave them orphans, that he will send them (after his death and resurrection) another advocate, someone else, the Spirit of Truth, who would be with them always.
           
All this tells me that Jesus must have considered himself their first or original advocate because he tells them that he will send them another, someone like himself.
           
When one reads the gospels, we somehow get the sense that without Jesus, the disciples really felt themselves as “lost souls.”  They never really could figure out exactly what he was talking about or how he could do the marvelous things he did.  But they also knew that without his presence and support, they might as well go back to fishing or whatever else they might have been doing before they met him.  So, Jesus truly was their advocate or counselor.
           
But Jesus also knew (after all, he was human, like all of us) that he would not be with them forever. He knew what was about to befall him at the hands of the Romans, and I’m sure the disciples also had a sense that some serious stuff was about to come down soon.
           
So, given all that, Jesus wanted to reassure them that it wasn’t over when it seemed to be over. He would continue to be with them all days, even until the end of the world.  I’m sure that must have been a great comfort to these men who had so little idea of what would happen if Jesus was suddenly taken from them.
           
What is so important in all this is that, seemingly, Jesus wanted to make sure that all he had preached and done would not simply disappear after his death.  What would have been the whole point of his coming into the world in the first place?
           
So, Jesus tells them that he will continue to be with them in the Spirit that he will send them.  He did not say what life would be like when the Spirit came, or what the Spirit would do. He just said “don’t be afraid, the Spirit will be here to be an advocate for you.”
           
Now, fortunately, I would have to say that we Christians today, and for many ages in the past, have had a special insight into what Jesus meant when he said he would send the Spirit. The apostles and disciples did not know, but we know that the Spirit has always been part of the entire rise and growth of our Christian, Catholic Church of which we are an intimate part by baptism. The fact that our Church has been healthy and thriving all these years tells us that we have not been orphans or that we have been floating around free all these centuries. Only because the Holy Spirit has been with us can we say that Jesus himself has continued to be with us also, giving us hope and direction.
           
True, the church has indeed fallen on some pretty hard times over the years: We’ve had inept popes and bishops, we as Church have done some pretty terrible things to other groups of people over the centuries. (Think, for instance, of the Inquisition and the Crusades.)  But nonetheless, we are still a Church which continues to be a beacon of truth in the world today. Jesus never said he would do miracles to help the church continue.  He just said that his Spirit would be with us.
           
The question, however, is this:  For whom does the Holy Spirit advocate, for whom does the Holy Spirit counsel and intercede? My answer would be not just for the pope (although somewhat for him), not just for bishops (but also somewhat for them), not just for ordained deacons or priests, not just for dedicated lay folks in the church, but rather for the entire Church as a body, all of us together.
           
But, you may ask, how does all this happen?  How do we know that the Holy Spirit is still with the Church?  Several ways:  First, when we accept the good leadership of the pope and bishops. But also when we enter into the life of the Church in our own “little churches”, when we try to bring the Spirit’s power to bear for the good of the Christian community by doing the ordinary good things that keep a Church alive, whether it be assisting at communion, proclaiming the word, teaching little children their catechism, or even the church for a weekend liturgy.  Those may sound like ordinary secular tasks, but no work is too small for the good of God’s Church.
           
So, if we are to believe that Jesus’ words are true, that he will be with his church for ever, then we need to believe that this will happen when the Spirit inspires all of us to bring our gifts to the Church in every age.
           
The Holy Spirit works with us and through us but not without us.  So, that means that all of us are important if we want the Holy Spirit to continue advocating and counseling in the Christian community.
           
That leaves us with a final question:  Where do you fit in, where do I fit in the Spirit’s plans for the Church?  I don’t think the Spirit or Jesus expected miracles, just good old human sweat and effort.  One would almost have to say that Jesus and the Holy Spirit cannot get along without us. We are an intricate part of the Spirit’s work and an intimate part of Jesus’ continued work in the world as our Savior.  If the Church’s life is vibrant and active, it is because we have listened to the Spirit’s voice and done “our thing.”
           
Now that I think of it, perhaps even Johnnie Cochran was doing the Spirit’s bidding when he defended the poor in East L.A.  The poor are also part of God’s kingdom, an intimate part.  How O.J. Simpson and his acquittal fit into all this, I don’t know. Maybe someday history will make that more clear to us.  Anyway, Jesus and the Holy Spirit continue to work down through the ages and, whether we are lawyers or not we are still advocates for one another in this Church we call the Body of Christ.
      
The scriptures:
Acts of the Apostles 8: 5-8, 14-17; 1 Peter 3: 15-18; John 14: 15-21

Posted by Deacon Eric Stoltz at 02:56 PM.

April 24, 2005

Fifth Sunday of Easter: Out of Variety, Unity

I think one of the things that astonished me when I first came to Alaska in 1993, was the great variety of cultural and ethnic groups who lived here.  I’m not sure what I expected to find, but I imagined Alaska to be a place where mostly Native people and a mixture of Anglo Saxon folks lived, people who could withstand the intensely cold winters and who knew how to “drive” dogs across the frozen tundra. That’s what I had always heard was most unique for Alaska, naïve as I was.

Imagine my surprise when I arrived and found people from the South Pacific or at least the warmer places in the world!  “Why would they come to Alaska, this cold and barren place,” I said to myself?  Well, they had obviously come for the same reason all the other people in Alaska had come:  To make a living, to be free, to be respected for their unique background, ethnic, religious and cultural.  So, I had to get used to that diversity pretty fast. It was actually no big problem for me, even though I grew up as a youngster where all the folks were white, European.
 
Interestingly, what I remember best from my growing-up days was the fact that many of the folks who lived around us were of the same ethnic and racial background, but they did not go to our church.  They practiced a different religion:  They were mostly German-Norwegian Lutheran.  Of course, that did not prevent us from associating with them.  We did not know much about their churches in those days and, unfortunately, we didn’t much care. There were other things that bonded us together.  We knew one thing for sure, however:  we could not attend their church, not even for weddings or funerals.  “They are not like us”, our pastor warned, “don’t go there!”  We never could understand how different they were, but we never had the courage to ask either.  That was a different day and a different time, of course.  Today, Catholics and non-Catholics have no problem associating closely with one another.  We even worship with one another on special occasions.
           
What is even more unique today, of course, are the number of ethnic groups that worship together in the same church. I have read, for instance, that in Los Angeles, there are some 30 or more different language and cultural groups, and most of them are all mixed in together on a Sunday morning, worshiping in different languages and getting along well with one another.  This is a far-cry from the “old days” when each ethnic or cultural or language group had its own church and its own pastor who spoke the mother tongue.  There is really something beautiful about the fact that we can have such different backgrounds but can still worship together without any question.
           
Interestingly, this is the way it has been in the Church of Jesus Christ from its earliest days.  In the beginning, of course, all were Jews but within a short time after Jesus death and the time of the first missionary journeys of Peter, Paul and the other apostles, Gentile people gradually began to flock into the church, mostly Greeks.
           
How do we know all that?  Well, we know it because the scripture for the liturgy of this Sunday tell us about a minor flare-up that happened in the early Church.  The community was growing faster than they could manage it.  The big problem was how the non-Jewish converts, the Greek-speaking people, could be integrated into the Christian flock. They were afraid of discrimination.  Some Greek-speaking widows (the helpless) were not being cared for in the distribution of food.
           
So, how did they work that out?  It is called the discernment and distribution of ministries, much as we choose and distribute ministries today. Everyone is invited to contribute their individual gifts. The apostles, in this instance, decided that they would dedicate themselves to the ministry of the Word, preaching and catechizing, while the deacons (servants at table) would make sure that the entire community was cared for in terms of food and housing. It seemed to work out then even though it was a smaller and simpler community.  It still works today:  Look at all the different ministries that are active in this very church.
           
You will have noticed in the scriptures just read that the theme centers around the idea of unity in diversity, out of many one.  What is the scriptural foundation for our unity as Christians?  We just talked about the problem they were having in the early church, mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles.  What brought that diverse community together eventually was their common desire to hear God’s Word, to share Eucharist together and be cared for. Isn’t that what Church is all about? Isn’t that what we look for in our churches?  That’s, in fact, what makes Church to be what it is.
           
Secondly, we have a nice little sermon in the First Letter of Peter we just heard read a moment ago.  Remember, Peter is talking to lots of different folks and he uses a lovely metaphor.  He tells them that they should think of themselves as “living stones” of all different sizes, colors and shapes, but all joined together on the cornerstone which is Christ.  A great metaphor and I’m sure the folks all understood it without difficulty.
 
So, Peter was really just trying to explain to all these different folks how, despite their differences, they could be Church: “Just think of Christ as your corner stone and yourselves as living stones attached to Christ, the one who holds all things together.”
           
Then Peter uses a beautiful phrase to describe who they are together as Christians:  He says: “You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people of God’s own so that you may announce the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.”  Can you think of anything more beautiful to say to a Christian community about what it means to be Christian and community?  In fact, these are the very words which the bishops of the Second Vatican Council used in their document called The Constitution of the Sacred Liturgy to describe who we are when we celebrate Mass together.
           
And, finally, we have some good words from John the Apostle about being Church:  John tells his folks that in God’s house there are many rooms, room for everyone, no matter what their ethnic or cultural background.  “Christ is going back to prepare a place for you,” he says.  “You will never need to be afraid of being left out in the cold.”
           
So, you see, from Christianity’s earliest times we have been trying to figure out how we can be different and still one in the same Church. We have found out over the years that in variety there is beauty, in diversity, unity.  This is exactly what James Joyce, the famous Irish novelist once said:  “Catholic means here comes everybody.”  You can’t argue with that!
 
The scriptures: 
Acts of the Apostles 6: 1-7; 1 Peter 2; 4-9; John 14: 1-12
 

Posted by Deacon Eric Stoltz at 02:54 PM.

April 17, 2005

Fourth Sunday of Easter: Of Leaders and Followers

I have never been a great advocate of sheep or sheepherding. It’s nothing personal, you know. It’s just that I was brought up in a cattle family. Our family had a cattle company; we raised cattle for a living, but it was also a labor of love.

Unfortunately, in the 1860’s and thereafter, sheep men began to invade the Great Plains which until then had been cattle country.  No doubt, you have seen movies about the great cattle and sheep wars, about fences and free land.  As you might imagine, there was not much love lost between sheep herders and cattle men.  It was all about making a living.
 
It was not until I was a young adult and, with my friends, began to take vacations in the high mountains of Wyoming that I began to appreciate the role of shepherds or herders, as we called them.  Each spring these herders, mainly Basque men from Spain or France would bring thousands of sheep up into the high meadows and keep them there until the snow began to threaten in early September again.
 
It was no soft life these men lived.  They were single men, mostly, and they lived for four months in a canvas-covered wagon, cooking for themselves, guarding the sheep against coyotes and rustlers with their trusty dogs and “Thirty-Thirty” rifles.
 
It occurred to me that this was a lonely and dedicated life inasmuch as the sheep were not their own. They belonged to rich businessmen in Denver or Cheyenne. And yet, they seemed to act as though they had a personal stake in these sheep.

Part of it, of course, had to do with the nature of the sheep:  They are wayward creatures, constantly running after the next patch of green grass or pool of water. Hardly any wonder then that the shepherds needed to have a kind of personal concern for these aimless animals.  Every individual sheep was worth a considerable amount of money at that time.
 
I imagine that this has been the case for as long as sheep have wandered the earth.  Sheep and goats have seemingly been the basic stock in desert lands for as long as we can determine.  Both the Jewish and Christian scriptures speak of them in many places, not only because they were a basic food source but also because they were “part of the family” pets as it were, much like our pet dogs or cats today.
 
Even Jesus goes to great lengths to describe for us the close relationship between shepherds and sheep:  Like a pet dog, the sheep knows the master’s’ voice. Knowing their vulnerability the shepherd made sure that the sheep were corralled each evening and that he himself actually slept under blankets on the ground at the door of the stone enclosure to keep away the threat of wild animals. Yes, I suppose there was a kind of economic interest in the sheep, but I am sure that there was also a personal interest as well.  As Jesus himself notes:  “The shepherd knows his sheep by name and they know him.”
           
We can begin to understand, therefore, why Jesus would refer to his disciples both as friends and as the sheep of his flock. People would immediately and instinctively have realized the implication of those words. It was something personal between them. We today might not use that sort of language, but in those days it had a special meaning, a meaning of personal endearment.  We are still using that term today because there does not seem to be any better way to describe the relationship between Christ and ourselves, the church.
           
Nonetheless, in this age of Christian “sophistication”, some Catholics are put off by being called “sheep of the flock.”  It seems to have a sort of demeaning quality about it, especially when you think of sheep as wayward creatures with a mind of their own, constantly getting lost, constantly needing to be brought back into the fold. We don’t think of ourselves in that way today constantly needing someone to remind us to stay close to the church and not take the risk of losing our faith.  We feel a certain personal responsibility for our faith and like to make up our own minds in regard to conscience.
 
But I think there is something more personal involved when Jesus calls us “sheep of the flock.”  Jesus always gave his disciples the complete freedom to go their own way.  But you also get the sense that Jesus was always deeply concerned about his disciples on a very personal level as well.
 
So, we could say that our church can truly be called a place of safe haven.  We come there in any circumstance to seek help, consolation, forgiveness.  We can know that that if we come there we will not be turned away, no matter how far we may have wandered from the fold.  Someone will always be there to welcome us home. I think that is what Jesus meant when he calls us by name, “sheep of the flock.”
           
It is not purely by accident either that our popes from earliest times in the church have been called the Chief Shepherds of the Flock. We can assume that the pope has a personal interest in each of us even though he may never meet us personally. It is his job to be our pastor and shepherd.
 
As I read about Pope John Paul’s health difficulties these days and his insistence that he accepts his sufferings for the sake of the entire church, I think to myself, here is a man who has learned from Jesus himself that his role is to be our guide and shepherd, even though it may cost him some pain and suffering.

Posted by Deacon Eric Stoltz at 02:51 PM.

April 10, 2005

Third Sunday of Easter: Getting the Word Out

It always arouses my interest as I drive by various non-Catholic churches and notice the title of the forthcoming Sunday sermon displayed on a sign-board out front.  Some are puzzling, others humorous, but they are always eye-catching and clever. I’ve always wondered why we Catholics do not follow the same practice.  We might well attract a few more possible parishioners.  Perhaps the assumption is that Catholics are obliged to come to church each Sunday anyway, no matter what the sermon might be!  Inasmuch as Protestants are not obliged to attend services each Sunday, perhaps the sermon title is meant to serve as a bit of free advertising or a “come-on” for people who may be driving by and become interested. Anyway, it’s a thought.  Nonetheless you can tell that these Protestant ministers have already done some homework on a sermon if the title comes up on the sign around Tuesday or Wednesday of the current week.

Selling religion or publishing your “spiritual wares” may not seem very appropriate, but if you want to attract listeners, you need to get the word out some way.  Actually, this has been the normal practice in Christian churches from earliest times: its called proclamation: Proclaiming the good news of Jesus Christ.

The question is how to get the message out there in this age of modern communication.  There was once the assumption that people would flock to churches to hear a good sermon, but even back as far as the “fifties” we already were beginning to see a change in proclamation when good old Bishop Fulton Sheen, of happy memory, who followed the example of Milton Berle, the comedian, and did his preaching on television for the first time. If you look hard enough, you can still find video tapes of some of his TV sermons. He was not only a dynamic speaker, but he knew how to sell his “goods” by dressing up in his brightly colored robes and using his chalk board with the mysterious angel who erased it clean every few minutes.  See, he knew what it took to proclaim the gospel.

Today, of course, there is a lot of competition for preachers with the advent of so many other means of communication: Mother Angelica’s Eternal Word Television Network, cable television, electronic mail, the Internet, et cetera.

One form of public communication, for sure, which you will not find very much today is the preacher who stands and preaches on a street corner somewhere, or in a town square as used to be done so frequently in English towns years ago.

In today’s busy times, of course, you probably would not find a half dozen people who would stop and listen even for a few minutes to this sort of preaching.  Today, people hardly even have time to read the daily news paper, much less stand on a street corner listening to a preacher. They would rather check out Cable News Network at the head of the hour; it’s always faster.  Of course, they are not going to get much spiritual satisfaction from Ted Turner’s Cable News Network, but there are other religious services available on the Faith Network, Channel 16.

Now, if you would like to have an example of a typical sermon given in the public square, you only need to go as far as the first reading in today’s liturgy.  Peter is giving this sermon outdoors somewhere in the city of Jerusalem and whether you believe it or not, he gives the whole story of Jesus’ life, suffering, death and resurrection in about fifty lines. You might wish that all sermons were that short. We call that sort of preaching Kerygma, a Greek word which means a public proclamation of the good news of God’s saving activity in the life of Jesus Christ. In short, this is an early form of street catechism or theology.        

There are two interesting things to notice in this short sermon of Peter.  First of all, this is what we would call today the Liturgy of the Word, the first part of our modern Mass: Basically, a scripture reading and a homily. Secondly, right at the end, Peter says:  “All this is true, my friends: I was there, I saw it all happen, I was an eye-witness.  This is no second-hand story.”  I imagine anyone who heard Peter say those words must have thought, wow, here is someone who knows what he is talking about. I think I’ll stick around and hear some more. Wouldn’t it be great if modern-day preachers could attract an audience like that? Being an eye-witness always helps (Eye-witness News)!

Now, let’s take a look quickly at the gospel.  This is one of my all-time favorite passages, the story of two people (perhaps a husband and wife) who are on their way home from Jerusalem after Jesus’ death.  They are walking along, talking about all that had happened over the past few days, and as they walk along, a stranger catches up with them and casually asks what they are talking about.  So, they relate to him the news of Jesus’ death.

The stranger listens to all this without a word.  Finally, he says:  “My friends, let me explain to you what all this means, why it happened like this.  It was all in God’s plan.”  In other words, the “stranger” gives a short sermon on why Jesus had to suffer and die on the cross. Now, of course, they still have no idea who it is.

Finally, they arrive at the village of Emmaus; it is around dinner time.  The stranger just keeps walking on; so they stop him and invite him to come and have dinner with them.  The waiter brings them a loaf of bread (perhaps a bottle wine as well, but that is not mentioned.) The “stranger” takes the loaf of bread, says a blessing over it, breaks it and gives them some.  “Suddenly,” the text says, “their eyes were opened” and they realized it was Jesus they were listening to and with whom they were eating.  They realized this because this is exactly what he had done at the Last Supper and perhaps at other times as well. It was a kind of “deja vue all over again”!  And then, mysteriously Jesus disappears from their sight, and they are left scratching their heads over the entire incident.

But they are also convinced that it was Jesus because of what he said and what he did. They walk back to Jerusalem immediately and tell the rest of the disciples:  “We’ve seen the Lord.  We recognized him when he explained the scriptures to us and when he broke bread with us.”

Now, what’s that all about?  The scripture scholars today insist that Luke, the author of the gospel, is telling us that this was a form of early Christian worship; in other words, an early form of the Mass we have today:  First, the Scriptures are publicly read and explained and then bread is broken, the wine also blessed and handed out to everyone. In an abbreviated form, that is a description of what we do each Sunday:  Someone reads he scriptures, a homily or explanation is given and then bread is blessed, broken, wine is blessed and distributed to all.  This is Eucharist that we know so well from experience.

Interestingly, we are, in a sense, in the same situation as those two people who met Jesus; they said they recognized Jesus when he gave the homily and when he broke bread with them.  May I suggest that this is exactly how we meet Jesus each Sunday at Eucharist?  We also recognize Jesus  present when the scriptures are read and when bread and wine are blessed and distributed. That’s what the Mass is all about:  Recognizing Jesus again, still present in signs.

Now that I think about it, if I were to put up a sign in front of a Catholic church with the title of the following Sunday’s sermon I might put up these words:  “Jesus is back folks, come in and check it out!” If that does not bring in some folks off the street, I don’t know what will.

The scriptures:

Acts of the Apostles 2: 14, 22-33; 1 Peter 1: 17-21; Luke 24: 13-35

             

Posted by Deacon Eric Stoltz at 02:45 PM.

April 03, 2005

Second Sunday of Easter: A Card-Carrying Member

It has always seemed to me that people with imagination are a great gift to the world:  writers, inventors, philosophers, poets, ordinary folks who are not afraid to say, “what if, what if, for instance?

As a person who spends a lot of time in church, at least on Sunday, I have often wondered, imagined what it might be like if Jesus happened to walk in some Sunday morning looking for a seat. If he were not wearing the long brown Middle Eastern cloak but, say, a blue, three-piece suit, I might not even take a second look. “Just one of the parishioners,” I might say.

In our multicultural churches today there are many people of different backgrounds and we never give them a second thought. If they are Catholic, they deserve to be there with the rest of the assembly.  We never ask questions.

Sometimes, of course, street people, folks who are down on their luck also come to church and then we may look up and notice that they are a little “different.”  But beyond that we seldom think about it any further.

Obviously, Jesus is not going to “show up” some Sunday in one of our churches, but it is an interesting notion to explore, if, indeed, Jesus did decide to fulfill his Sunday obligation in a Catholic church.  He could do that, of course.  It’s his church, after all. We believe that he is our founder, the reason why we ourselves “show up” each Sunday morning.

Seriously, however, and theologically, we need to say that Jesus does not have the option of walking into a church any longer.  The historical Jesus does not live any longer as he once did in Palestine thousands of years ago. Even when he lived at the time he did, he was limited by the same constraints as all other human persons:  We do not read, for instance, that Jesus appeared in two separate places at the same time. We know too that he had to put up with the same human frailties that all of us do:  Heat and cold, hunger and thirst, irritation with the disciples’ slowness to learn. We know that Jesus sometimes got angry but that he also had compassion for the sick, that he cried when one of his friends, Lazarus, died, that he was scared to death in the Garden of Gethsemane.   All that tells us that Jesus was truly human and that he was limited by human nature as well.  So, given that Jesus died, he would not be able to sign up as a parishioner in any church today.

But if we were to insist that Jesus Christ could not be recognized in any form in our churches, then we would have some theological problems to deal with. The fact is, Jesus is present with us when we come together to celebrate Eucharist each Sunday.

We have an interesting proof of that in our first reading from the Acts of the Apostles today.  It’s a short history of the early Christian church. It tells us a little bit about what they did on Sunday and why they did it:  Here is what Luke, the author of Acts says:  “They devoted themselves to the communal life, to the breaking of bread and to the prayers. They met together in the temple area and devoted themselves of breaking bread in their homes. Every day the Lord added to their number.”

All this tells us that the Christian community still believed that Jesus Christ was with them, even though he was not with them physically as he once had been. In other words, it was their faith in Christ that made him present.

We experience something similar when we have photos of friends or relatives prominently displayed in our home.  They are not there physically but their presence is felt when we look at the photo.

So, it is not the Jesus of Nazareth who returns to church each Sunday, but rather the Christ of faith who is always present when we gather for the Eucharist which he instituted for us.

Unfortunately, I think we do not always realize how present Jesus Christ truly is when we come together like this on a Sunday because it’s all about recognizing signs.  We’re often like folks who live in Missouri:  “Show me,” we say.  “We want physical evidence.”

But there are some real signs that help us recognize Jesus Christ. The bishops at the Second Vatican Council back in the 1960’s taught us that. Here is what they said: “Christ is always present in his Church, especially in her liturgical celebrations, not only in the person of his minister, but especially in the Eucharist. He is present in his word when the holy scriptures are read in church.  Lastly, he is present when the Church prays and sings, for he promised, ‘where two or three are gathered together in my name, there I am in the midst of them.’”

So, that is the teaching of our Church:  We believe Jesus Christ is present, not physically, bodily, flesh and blood, but rather in the signs he left with us:  Word and Eucharist, in the priest who leads us in prayer and even in our presence to one another here in our pews each Sunday. It is truly Jesus Christ, just in a different mode or form.

So, what should all that mean to us when we are in the middle of the celebration of the liturgy?  I think it’s something really simple:  It’s a matter of paying attention to little (or not so little) things:  When the gospel is read, for instance, it is really Jesus speaking to us. When we come to the table for Communion, it is Christ we receive. When we notice the person next to us, praying with us, it is a sign of Christ still present.

When you think about it, Jesus Christ is still dependent on the body to be with us, but this time he depends on what we call the mystical body, the Church to make him present.

So, if we are a hospitable people, as I am sure we are, and then our task is to welcome Jesus into our (and his) church every Sunday.  He depends on us to do that.  All it takes is for us to keep our eyes and ears open to what is happening when we come here to pray and sing and even after Mass to share coffee or a soft drink and something to eat.  That’s what those early Christians we just read about were doing:  Breaking bread and praying.  Nothing much has changed over the years, at least I hope it hasn’t.

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

 

Posted by Deacon Eric Stoltz at 02:42 PM.

March 27, 2005

Easter as a Personal Experience

Back in the year 1960, Federico Fellini, the famous Italian movie director, produced a film called La dolce Vita, the sweet life.  It was a critical commentary on the decadent life of the rich and famous in Rome.

The film opens with a scene of a helicopter flying around and around over the city of Rome.  To it, attached by ropes, was a huge cement statue of Jesus Christ, arms out stretched, looking down on the city.  People down below are all staring up in the sky saying, “Hey, look, Jesus has come back.  What do you think that could mean?” Well, after a while the helicopter, with Jesus in tow, disappears off in the distance over the edge of the city and the people down below in Rome soon forget about the experience and go back to what they were doing before Jesus first appeared.  The rest of the film then traces the lives of various people whose life styles did not change very much despite the fact that Jesus had come back to the city. 

It’s pretty obvious that Fellini is making a statement on the impact that Jesus does come into the world.  The question is, what does that mean to people?

I have always thought of that film as a kind of resurrection story, Jesus returning to earth and then asking, what does that mean if, indeed, he does return. 

So, that is the question: If Jesus were to return, whether by helicopter or on his own power, what could that mean for those of us who are Christian?  Would the world be any different if we knew that Jesus Christ would come swooping down over our city some day?  That may sound like a crazy question, but I think most of us do believe that Jesus is still present in the world in some way, and that his resurrection has made it possible for him to be eternally present with us.

It seems to me then that this brings up some questions for us to consider on this Easter morning.  The first question is this:  If we do believe that Jesus Christ is still present with us, how does that happen and what does it mean?

The second question is this:  Does it do much good for us simply to sit around thinking about Jesus’ resurrection, whether at Easter or at any other time?  Or again, does it do any good simply to think of Jesus resurrection as something which only happened to him?  In other words, is there such a thing as a personal experience of resurrection, and not simply the experience of a truth or a doctrine, important as those might be?  What would that mean? How would it feel?  How would we know it is even happening?

The point is, if the resurrection of Jesus Christ cannot be a personal experience, then it is hardly worth coming here today to sing our Alleluia’s.  That is my conviction.

So, back to our first question: How is Jesus Christ still living and present in the world today?  Let me introduce that with a story from another film from the year 1977, this time by the Italian film maker Franco Zeffirelli. It was titled Jesus of Nazareth.  The story goes like this: Jesus has been crucified and is hastily buried.  Soon thereafter a member of the Jewish Sanhedrin is informed by a messenger that certain followers of the itinerant preacher, Jesus, were spreading the news that Jesus’ tomb had been found empty and that his followers were now claiming that they could still experience him present among them in some mysterious way.  At that, the Jewish temple official closed his eyes, took a deep breath, sighed and said: “Well, so it begins again. It all begins again.”  A great insight if we look at it historically.  How little did he know that his words were actually to come true?  That, in fact, is exactly what has happened:  Jesus is still present in some mysterious, but real way.  The resurrection of Jesus marks a new way of life for millions and millions of people down through history. I would like to think that this is the very reason why we are here this morning.  We are part of that crowd of millions and millions down through history who believe Jesus is still present when we gather like this, Sunday after Sunday, to remember him as he asked his disciples and us to do when he celebrated his last supper with them.  The point is, when Christians come together, Jesus comes to life again and again; resurrection happens again in the flesh and blood of his followers, all of us here today.  If that is not the case, then I would be hard pressed to know what we are, in fact, doing here.

The second question is this: Is the resurrection simply a church doctrine, a phrase in the Nicene Creed, something to puzzle over, to ask how it could ever have happened?  Or is it, must it somehow be, an individual experience, even aside from our gathering here Sunday after Sunday?  Have any of you ever had a resurrection experience?  I obviously do not mean a rising from the grave, but something you could describe as life beginning all over again today.  In other words, can resurrection be personal?  That is the central question about Easter.

But you may say, well how would I know that?  How would it happen?   Well, first of all, I think we would need to say that there is a difference between resurrection and immortality.  Immortality simply means never dying. Resurrection, on the other hand, is a daily experience, something that is actually happening, something personal you could describe as worth getting up for in the morning.  That’s resurrection!

So, what are some examples of that?  Well, have you ever known people of whom you could say:  That person is always full of life, always happy, always hopeful, always ready to find something good to say, even though things may not always go consistently well.  That’s a resurrection experience.

Or have you ever personally had a bout with some sickness over a long period of time, perhaps even being confined to the hospital and then finally being told by your doctor that you are cured and healthy again and can go home?  That’s the feeling of resurrection.

Or when two people, for instance, who dearly love one another but have had a falling out, decide to put their differences aside and love one another again…that’s the experience of resurrection.

Or, do you have a natural taste for beauty, for goodness and truth?  If you do, that’s a resurrection experience.

Can you manage to find something good to say about even depressing situations?  That’s resurrection.

Are you moved by the smile on a child’s face, a good joke or some really humorous situation?  That’s resurrection. Something has transformed your life and brought you happiness.

The point of all this is to say that resurrection is happening all the time; it’s going on at this very moment if we are aware enough to notice it, whether within ourselves or in the world around us.  Resurrection, in other words, is dynamic; you should be able to notice it when it is happening.

Finally, I think we should say that Jesus probably will not come back today to this city, whether by helicopter or any other way. But we would also need to say that he has actually never left this world.  That Jewish religious official we talked about earlier was so right:  “And so it begins,” he said, and it does begin again today, tomorrow and every day when we decide that the spirit of Jesus never dies.  It can burst forth in a million different ways in the lives of people like us, people who are convinced, like Bishop Fulton Sheen used to say, that “life is worth living.”  If life is not worth living, then there is no resurrection, simple as that.

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

           

Posted by Deacon Eric Stoltz at 02:40 PM.