Chuck Norris, the Hollywood action star (e.g. Walker, Texas Ranger) and health food entrepreneur is currently hyping a new (and costly) product that he says can make an 80-year-old feel like 50.  He reminds listeners that they should order now “before supplies run out.”  His statement probably motivates some listeners to place their order immediately lest they be deprived of this snake oil.  Other listeners might wonder why a business would even start if it planned to run out of what it was selling.  Wouldn’t the company believe in what it sold—that it would have enough to provide buyers?

Norris also used another selling ploy.  In addition to the new product he was peddling, he said he was also a man committed to his “faith, family, and country!”  In high school journalism class, one learns to avoid using what is known in the writing world as “glittering generalities.”—and the Norris commitment is a wonderful example of “glittering generalities.”  After all, what DOES “faith, family, and country” actually mean?  Each word is open to interpretation, but our concern in the weekly bulletin is the relationship of ALL matters to what we call our “faith.”

Remember that Jesus said that even the Scribes, Pharisees, and all sorts of sinners loved their family members and friends.  Jesus challenged his listeners to ask themselves what, exactly, differentiated them from everyone else. And how DOES “faith” connect with “country?”  After all, we hear people talk about leaving “religion” out of “politics,” but how on earth can a practicing Christian detach their following of Jesus WITHOUT addressing “political” (socio-cultural) issues that Jesus Himself addressed (See Matthew 25—which has Jesus say that we help him when we feed the hungry, shelter the homeless, clothe the naked, etc.)?

But the “devil” never sleeps.  Even Matthew 25 has been reinterpreted or ignored when “Christian Nationalism” is in the driver’s seat.  For example, Joseph Goebbels, Nazi Germany’s chief propagandist convinced millions of Germans that Jesus was a German whose family raised him in Jerusalem where the JEWS put him to death.  Voila, people actually believed this nonsense!  German Christian Nationalists asserted that “We are TRUE” Christians who follow a Jesus who was blue-eyed with light-colored hair. He was an ARYAN (a word often erroneously used to describe the “race” of northern Europeans).  People who use this word often claim their white skin is a sign of superiority. This meaning was Hitler’s gospel that asserted Aryan Christians must exterminate the Jewish people—thus giving Germany’s “Christian Nationalists” the green light to conduct the Holocaust.

This twisting of the Gospel message persuaded millions of Germans to embrace Mr. Hitler’s regime and prompted Martin Niemoller to reflect that Germany first came “for the communists. I did not speak out because I was not a communist.  Then they came for the Jews; I did not speak because I was not a Jew.  Then they came to fetch the workers, members of the trade unions; I did not speak because I was not a trade unionist.  Afterward, they came for the Catholics; I did not say anything because I was a Protestant.  Eventually, they came for me, and there was no one left to speak . . .

This scenario of misguided people rising to power in a nation has occurred throughout historyed many times, so is not just a historical reflection on how Hitler came to power.  Just as German Christians could support the seductions of demonic propaganda, so can we here in America.  That’s why the Michigan Catholic Conference exists—to familiarize us with what Christian values are at stake in one election after another.  Similarly, the National Conference of Catholic Bishops also releases documents that address social issues that arise in the halls of Congress.  As Catholics, we HAVE to act on issues that conflict with our faith.

Thinking of how we use words to express ideas which, in turn, influence people’s behavior—is at the heart of the Pentecost incident.  It is NOT a story about the apostles becoming multilingual because of a miracle Jesus performed.  Rather, the Pentecost event tells us that the Resurrection of Jesus has reversed what took place with the Tower of Babel.  Babel’s people could not communicate with one another and so paid a price of not being able to work together. By contrast, Pentecost reports how the Holy Spirit allows us to speak up, to speak to people’s hearts, and to communicate God’s word to ALL peoples of the world.  This missionary identity has allowed 20 generations of Christians to spread God’s word globally—and has allowed us to “discern” how best to live a Christian identity.  After all, there are many “spirits” out there that move us to make bad decisions. 

The founder of the Jesuits, St. Ignatius, is well-known for teaching how we can make a “discernment of spirits.”  That is, he addressed how we can identify what is the work of the HOLY Spirit and what is the work of other, destructive “spirits” who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of our lives.. 

What follows are issues that the Jesuit Conference of the United States and Canada think should be considered by Congress in the vote before them that is problematic for Christian and humanitarian groups.  Christopher J. Kellerman, S.J., the Conference’s Secretary of Justice and Ecology, drafted the following for people to send their senators and representatives.  While this bill has raised concerns about its generous tax exemptions for billionaires, it also addresses several issues that are not on the radar of most people.  The Conference acknowledges what is good in the bill, but also shows what needs improvement.  Our faith calls us to do the same.  Specifically, the Jesuits point out where the Bill hurts poor and vulnerable people.

Prioritize human needs and human flourishing. The Jesuit Conference Office of Justice and Ecology is grateful that H.R. 1 ends taxpayer funding for major elective abortion providers. We also commend the extension and expansion of the Low-Income Housing Tax Credit, which will help address the housing accessibility and affordability crisis facing the poorest households.  We are concerned, however, that H.R. 1 does not uphold the moral responsibility of government to ensure that all people in its jurisdiction have adequate access to food and health care.

The Congressional Budget Office (CBO) estimates that H.R. 1 would potentially put several million people at risk of going hungry by eliminating them from the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP). CBO also estimates over 10 million people could lose access to health care over the next decade due to provisions in the bill.  It also cuts nutrition assistance and health care coverage for immigrants here legally (despite the bill’s false insinuation to the contrary, at one point), some of whom are refugees and human trafficking victims. What if, instead of raising revenue by putting millions of people at risk of hunger and poor health, Congress adjusted the bill’s benefits to not skew so much in favor of the wealthy? For example, why not take President Trump’s suggestion to raise the tax rate on the wealthiest Americans? 

Family is the fundamental unit of society. We support provisions in H. R. 1 that would increase family stability, especially improvements to the Adoption Tax Credit, the Paid Family and Medical Leave Credit, and the Employer-Provided Child Care Credit. We encourage you to explore ways to make adoption, paid leave, and child care accessible to more families that want and need it, such as through incorporating Sen. Britt and Sen. Kaine’s proposal broadening the Child and Dependent Care Tax Credit and the Dependent Care Assistance Program (see S. 847). 

We commend the acknowledgment of the need for early wealth-building opportunities for children through the inclusion of “Trump Accounts.” As constructed, however, these accounts may exacerbate wealth inequality. The model found in the American Opportunity Accounts Act would allow “Trump Accounts” to achieve their potential for building wealth for poor children. We are deeply concerned that H.R. 1 does not expand the Child Tax Credit nearly as much as last year’s House-passed tax package would have. 17 million of the poorest children already miss out on the full credit, and H.R. 1 will deny an additional 2.5 million children the full credit.

The bill creates a new marriage penalty in the tax code by eliminating CTC eligibility for millions of American children just because those children have one parent without a Social Security Number. Perhaps this is an attempt to punish immigrants who are here illegally, BUT it is well known that many legal, documented migrants are not eligible to apply for an SSN for various reasons and instead must use a taxpayer ID number to file their taxes. Besides, part of being pro-life means believing that a child’s dignity does not depend upon the choices and circumstances of their parents. The CTC should benefit all American children and Congress should be eliminating marriage penalties from the tax code, not creating new ones. 

Care for our common home (earth). The U.S. Catholic Bishops have urged government to provide regulations and a system of taxation that encourage firms to preserve the environment, employ disadvantaged workers, and create jobs in depressed areas. The bill would hasten the damage caused by climate change,  stymy job creation, and hurt future generations by ending the Inflation Reduction Act credits and programs. We urge you to reconsider these harmful cuts. 

Civil society is a vital contributor to the national economy. We are grateful H.R. 1 includes a charitable deduction for taxpayers who do not itemize. The family-centered employer tax credits are accessible only to corporations.  Explore ways for nonprofits to utilize them as well. 

Principles of fairness, equity, and justice must guide decision-making. We are grateful that the bill allows Tribal Governments to determine whether a child has special needs for purposes of the Adoption Tax Credit and would modify the Low-Income Housing Tax Credit to designate Indian areas and rural areas as “difficult development areas.” Eliminate harms to Indian Country, including the rescissions of energy programs funded under the IRA and of the unobligated balance of the Tribal Energy Loan Guarantee Program. Incorporate outstanding sections of the Tribal Tax and Investment Reform Act. 

The bill inhibits a major accomplishment of Mr. Trump’s reopening of Pell Grants to incarcerated students. Prison education programs across the country help students find good jobs upon release and reduce crime and recidivism. H.R. 1 makes a grave mistake by limiting Pell to students who take at least 15 course hours per year.  Some prison education programs are only able to offer a couple of courses per year, and many full-time correctional staff in Jesuit prison education programs don’t have time for 15-course hours.  So, eliminate these harmful changes to Pell eligibility.  The Bill can indeed be beautiful by providing all people across the country with what they need to flourish and lead healthy lives.

As you see, “religion and politics” are incurably intertwined. Every issue is a moral issue, a religious issue, a political, or Gospel issue that Jesus calls us to address—as best as we can.  Few can be knowledgeable of ALL areas of pending legislation, but perhaps you have a special concern for, or relationship to, one or another issue that affects you or people you care about.  Why not “specialize” in that one area—and bring its implications to the parish’s attention?  That’s being Christ-like.

Our special “holy day” that we refer to as “the Ascension” is not an event that took place, literally, 40 days after Easter.  It is, rather, part of the Resurrection narrative itself—the Resurrection and Ascension being 2 aspects of the Easter event.  It takes place sometime between the moment a resurrected Jesus tells Mary Magdalene NOT to touch him and when he tells doubting Thomas TO touch him. 

Sometime within this context, the Ascension took place.  Theologically, we separate the 2 events—which are really one—so as to contemplate each reality.  What is resurrection for me?  Don’t think just in terms of a historical event in the life of Jesus but in terms of your own life.  What is the meaning of Ascension—the departure of Jesus from the earthly realm?  And what is it for YOUR eventual departure, or that of others?  What does “resurrection of the body” mean?

In his account of the Ascension of Jesus, Matthew wrote that “the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had ordered them.”  Recall that when mountains are sites of an event, an appearance of God (called a “theophany”) is probably going to take place.  Sure enough!  The disciples see the risen Lord, and heard his grand “commission” of them to go and baptize all people—instructing all people to live as he taught them to live. 

And just as Matthew referred to the baby Jesus of Bethlehem as “Emmanuel”—a name meaning “God is with us,” so the evangelist concludes his Gospel saying that Jesus told his followers “I am with you always, until the end of time.”  He would always live up to his namesake, “God with us,” in good times and bad, in sickness and health, for better or worse, until death and beyond! 

Matthew’s portrayal of the Ascension is a powerful message for us.  He’s reminding you and me that when we face small or major challenges, we are not alone.  We have Jesus by our side (and Holy Spirit) to help us navigate.

But wait!  Luke presents the Ascension differently from Matthew.   Luke’s Gospel says that Jesus “led [his disciples] out as far as Bethany [NOT in Galilee as reported by Matthew].  He says that Jesus blessed them [and] parted from them (“taken up to heaven”).  He reported no great “commission” given by Jesus to baptize anyone.   

HOWEVER, look at how Luke described the Ascension in his other New Testament book (Acts of the Apostles).  In that work, he says that Jesus told his followers that they would be “witnesses . . .  to the ends of the earth” (a shortened form of Matthew’s account?).  His disappearance consisted of being “lifted up, and a cloud took him from their sight.” 

Not only that, but Luke then adds “Suddenly two men dressed in white garments stood beside them.”  Presumably angels? They asked the disciples, “Men of Galilee, why are you standing there looking at the sky?  This Jesus who has been taken up from you into heaven will return in the same way as you have seen him going into heaven.” 

This peculiar addition to Luke’s account is a powerful statement about Christian ministry.  It is a first-century form of saying “Don’t just stand there!  DO something.” Instead of looking at the sky and pondering where Jesus went, they are being told to “Get out there, and make a difference on behalf of the Gospel—by showing that God has visited you in the person of the risen Lord.”  The Mass itself replicates this scene when you and I attend.  WE are the disciples looking up to heaven at Mass, and we are the ones being told upon departure that it’s now time to leave this sacred space where we’ve looked up to heaven.  It’s time to go about our Father’s business—out the church door and into everyday life as an apostle of the Word.  Remember, “You might be the only bible someone ever reads!”.

John’s Gospel has no farewell remarks of Jesus, but does have him say toward the end: “As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.”  Moreover, chapters leading up to the conclusion report Jesus telling his disciples that he is with the Father, and the Father is in Him, and that we are in Him.  We no longer need to wonder who the Creator is because the Creator has been revealed in Jesus.  God is love, and we who abide in love abide in God, and God in us.

Leaving John the 23^rd

For me, it is Providential that my last weekend with you is on the Feast of the departure of Jesus from being among his people.  And so it is with me.  When I read of Jesus leaving, I’m reminded of author Ernest Hemingway’s novel For Whom The Bell Tolls.  The novel (and film) long ago touched my mind and heart because it presented the Gospel via the written word of a novel.  Generations of Christians have done their best to understand the Gospel, and author Hemingway communicated its meaning to me in the form of a love story.

The characters are “Roberto” Jordan and Maria—he a reporter from America and she is a young woman with whom he falls in love as they fight government soldiers in Spain’s civil war of the 1930s.  As the freedom fighters escape, Jordan is injured such that he can’t continue, so he tells his compatriots that he’ll hold off the soldiers as long as he can.  He also tells them to take Maria with them even when she resists.

When I heard the dialogue of this scene, I knew right away that Hemingway was drawing a parallel between Jordan and Jesus (even the name “Jordan” reminds us of the baptism of Jesus in the Jordan, baptism signaling one’s commitment to a greater good).  So Jordan is a “Christ figure” and he gives his message to “Maria” (the name “Mary” associated with the follower of Jesus, Magdalene, or even his mother Mary—with whom Jesus spoke when he was on the cross). 

So Jordan is saying goodbye to Maria—and this scenario can be a literary way of presenting the message of Jesus to his disciples as he departs (Mary representing the disciples and us).  And in a way, this Jordan character represents me speaking to you as I depart—having tried my best to communicate the Gospel in my parish role.  Follow these Gospel thoughts (and my farewell message to you) in the script that follows:

Jordan: I want to talk to Maria alone.  When I tell you to take her, take her!  She’ll want to stay, but take her.  [A sense of God wanting to speak with a person in prayer & us not wanting to let go of God speaking to us]  Maria, don’t, don’t say anything.  We won’t be going to America this time.  But always I go with you, wherever you go, understand?  You go now, Maria. 

Maria: No, no, I stay with you Roberto.

Jordan: No, Maria, what I do now, I do alone.  I couldn’t do it if you were here.  If you go, then I go too.  Don’t you see how it is?  Whichever one there is, is both of us.

Maria: No, there’d be only . . . [One’s sense of helplessness on their own without God]

Jordan: No, each of us must do his thing alone, and though we be alone, we do it for each other.  But if you go, then I go with you, that way I go too.  I know you’ll go now Maria, for both of us, because we love each other always.  [As Christians incarnate Jesus and become his presence to others—and echoing his farewell in Matthew Jordan says he will be with her “always”]

Maria: It’s easier for me to stay with you, Roberto. [With Jesus we feel stronger than when alone]

Jordan: I know it’s harder for you, but now I am you also.  If you go, I go too.  That’s the only way I can go. [Through baptism, Eucharist, faith life] You’re me now, surely you must feel that, Maria.  Remember last night?  Our time is now, and it will never end.  You’re me now, and I’m you.  Now you understand.  Now you’re going, and you’re going well, and fast, and far, and we’ll go to America another time, Maria.  Stand up now and go, and we both go.  Stand up Maria, remember you’re me too.  You’re all there will ever be of me now.  Stand up.  No, stand up.   There’s no good-bye, Maria, because we’re not apart.  [That’s my farewell word to you—as I carry your memory with me, wherever I go—since you go with me in my mind and heart and spirit—so there’s no need to say goodbye]  No, don’t turn around, go now, be strong, take care of our life.

Jordan or Jesus on the cross realizing his sacrifice was worth it—

because he loves us:

God, that was lucky I could make her go.  I don’t mind this at all now.  They’re away.  Think of how it would be if they got Maria instead of you.  Don’t pass out, Jordan!  Think about America!  I can’t.  Think about Madrid!  I can’t.  Think about, Maria!  I can do that alright!  No, you fool, you weren’t kidding Maria about that.  Now they can’t stop us ever!  She’s going on with me, yes, Maria [As a love story, Jesus can face the cross because you and I are the “Maria” for whom he gives his all]

Looking back and forward and a blessing to the people of John the 23^rd

With time seeming to pass so quickly, it seems I recently arrived here instead of 5.5 years ago. My 26-year role at Wheeling Jesuit University ended with the Jesuit withdrawal from West Virginia.  I returned to the womb of parish work–which had been my first assignment as a priest (St. Isaac Jogues Parish in the Soo).  It was a sad day for the Church and West Virginia when the Jesuits left West Virginia, and it was unfortunate that John the 23^rd was having struggles of its own (of which I was unaware). 

I appreciated the scene and understood why there was no “meet & greet” welcome wagon upon my arrival.  I apologize for being gun-shy and uneasy when passing people.  I feared being the target of their legitimate and heartfelt concerns.  St. Paul was able to be “all things to all people” and I kicked myself for not being able to follow his example.

As I tried to “fit in,” Covid made its appearance just a few months after my arrival, and we all had to keep one another at a distance.  We were all faced with having to change our routines. How to interact with people? How do we conduct parish life, weekly Masses, funerals, and any parish event?  Over time, the faith community endured, and people resumed doing wonderful forms of service within parish life and regional outreaches.  So good were people in restoring normalcy, I asked God to inspire me NOT to interfere with the initiatives taken by individuals and committees.  As I’ve said a number of times, when I visited people at homes to provide sacraments, it was I who left their premises feeling blest by THEM.  Hearing that my successor is a nice guy, I envy his being the recipient of your goodness.  The diocesan announcement of my departure said that I and 2 other “senior priests” were retiring, and many of you kindly wished me “happy retirement.”   However, Jesuits tend to stay in the saddle and not retire until forced to do so.  Consequently, I’m back to where I was in 2019 and looking for a placement.  So please keep me in prayer as I will you.
 May God the Father bless you with discomfort. Discomfort at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships, so that your efforts may all be grounded in the heart of God.

My sincere thanks for the farewell cards presented to me after Sunday’s Mass.  Please know that I deeply appreciate your expression of warm tidings.  Blending the Hemingway quote above with a Lakota Sioux greeting:  There’s no good-bye because we’re not apart.  My heart shakes hands with yours.

May God the Son bless you with anger. Anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that you may work for justice, freedom, and peace.

May God the Holy Spirit bless you with tears. Tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation, and war, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and turn their pain into joy.

May the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit bless you with foolishness. Enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in this world; so that you can do what others claim cannot be done.

May the blessing of our Creator, who has called you to be a disciple of Jesus—inspire you to go from here and be a blessing for everyone you meet—as you represent the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—alive in the world through you. 

May the blessings of God rest upon you, may God’s peace abide with you, may God’s presence illuminate your heart.

Picture yourself in the crowd of people who were disciples or followers or regular folks who just liked to hear Jesus speak to them.  You really benefited from his presence, and now he is gone.  Although he was executed for challenging the status quo, you’ve been buoyed by learning that he rose from the dead and still animates those who knew him best.  You learn that he did not just leave the memory of his activities, but he also guides his followers through what he called the Paraclete (a term that refers to “one who stands by the side of a defendant.”  This Divine presence was regarded as an “advocate,” “counselor,” and “comforter.” 

John’s Gospel spells out how Jesus and the Father were “one” and that this Paraclete was the continued presence of Jesus who He referred to as the “Holy Spirit.”  In spelling out the role of the Holy Spirit, the early Christians (just as today’s) were consoled to know they still had access to the wisdom and guidance of the Father and Son.  The Holy Spirit continued the presence of Jesus and guided succeeding generations in understanding how His teachings should be interpreted and applied to changing historical eras.

Just as debates occur today in which Christians take sides, so it was at the beginning of Church history.  For example, in the year 49, there occurred what is called the “Council of Jerusalem.”  The community was divided on the matter of circumcision.  That is, should new converts (“Gentiles”) have to circumcise their baby boys (the bris ceremony still practiced by Jewish families today—as taught in the Book of Leviticus).  Recall that this was a “scarification” rite practiced by the 12 tribes of Israel (just as other scarring rites are done by peoples around the world).  The decision was reached that stated no such scar need be the mark of Christians.  Instead, their “hearts and minds” needed change—such that their identification should be that they “love one another.”

The issue at play in this matter and countless others is: what is “of God” and what is NOT “of God.”  The Holy Spirit would help generations of Christians “discern” (prayerfully decide) what “spirit” comes from God and what spirit does not.  After all, we have many choices offered to us daily.  Our challenge is deciding what God calls us to do.  St. Ignatius of Loyola, the founder of the Jesuits, wrote a well-known spiritual work that addressed the “discernment of spirits,” and these “rules” have helped countless numbers of people make good decisions.  They were able to detect the presence of the “Holy Spirit” of God, and not just the “spirit” of the times, or the spirit of passing philosophies.  In short, the Holy Spirit’s presence has been summed up in the popular acronym: WWJD (“what would Jesus do”).

Sometimes, within different groups, there is a mentality of “we’ve always done it this way” (so don’t change).  The Holy Spirit often stirs within a group the desire to try something new, break new ground, create something afresh, etc.  Vatican II, for example, challenged Catholics to adjust to changing times (since the tendency of human behavior is to NOT change).  Pope John the 23rd announced that a new breeze was needed within the Church so as to blow the dust away from behaviors that no longer spoke as powerfully as they once did. As you know, 60 years later we still see people resisting changes made at Vatican II.

So what does our faith tradition have to say about Memorial Day weekend?  While not a Church holy day or feast, this yearly event for most people is just a day off from work which allows families to do yard work or have a picnic.  For some, the day represents a time for remembering deceased relatives—especially those lost in war.  For me, it brings back memories of my brother Bud, who served in the Pacific during World War 2.

Stationed in Guam, Ulithi Atoll, Pelalu, and the Aleutian Islands, he experienced enough horror to recognize war as “hell.”  I think his bouts with alcohol resulted from what today we’d call post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Throughout life, he was a sharp, friendly, and gifted guy—whose memories made nightmares keep him awake in later life.  For me, he came to symbolize each person here today, the people you have at home, and all God’s children.  We all carry wounds and tattoos on the heart that haunt us or hurt us in some way.  Knowing this reality, the new Pope (Leo) greeted his first audience with the words “Peace be with you.”  Echoing what we hear Jesus say at every Mass, he reminded all people that our number one responsibility is not to wage war with one another, but instead to wage peace.

I’ve been labelled from time to time as a war protester or anti-military, and I think of being raised in a family with lapel pins saying: “I like Ike” (a reference to General Eisenhower (later president).  I think of being a little boy with Buddy my Marine brother-hero.  And I think of how our identity as people of the Gospel must always represent our faith commitment in ways that will stop families from having to suffer the loss of children to war or its legacy.  May we always be known for being people of peace.

Today’s Gospel has Jesus tell us that our “love” for one another is the mark of his disciples.  On the surface, we might smile and say “Yes, that’s a nice attribute to have.”  But what does “love” mean?

C.S. Lewis, one of the 20^th century’s most acclaimed theologians, wrote a book that addressed “the 4 loves”—affection, friendship, romantic, and divine. However, the word is used in everyday speech so much that all sorts of meanings might be attached to it.

Many people end conversations with “Love you” when speaking with family or friends.  What do people mean when they say this?  Maybe it’s sort of like greeting someone and saying “How do you do?”  One isn’t really asking how you are doing.  Maybe “Love you” is the same type of communication—not really intended as a declaration of commitment or passion or devotion, but just a way of communicating goodwill.  But use of the word in phone conversations does, in fact, leave the listener wondering what meaning the person intended.

I recall a song from my youth asking “What is love?”  The answer?  “Five feet of heaven and a ponytail.” Obviously, this pop record was directed at a very young audience—right?  After all, when one gets older, they know what love is, and then base their marriage decision on who they will love and honor the rest of their lives.  Or does this occur?

Biologists debate the role of “pheromones” within human behavior.  They “are chemicals that . . . our bodies release  . . . [that] cause a reaction in the people around us.”  So, too, oxytocin is a hormone . . .  that plays a significant role in various aspects of human behavior . . .  including social bonding . . . often referred to as the ‘love hormone’ or ‘cuddling hormone’ because of its role in promoting feelings of connection and trust.”  So is “love” simply a chemical reality?

Because our physiology plays such a role, this might account for why traditional cultures (your ancestors) and a couple of billion people today have “arranged marriages” because “bonding is too important a decision for young people to make!” Elders choosing marriage partners is far more common in world history than our “boy meets girl” dating game of Western cultures (U.S.) today.  A traditional Lakota woman whose husband was chosen by her parents said: “You learn to love the man they’d choose.”  True or not, who knows?  With something like 50% of marriages ending in divorce today, one wonders what role “love” plays in a relationship—or how it is even defined.

In traditional cultures (your ethnic background), allies and enemies were clearly defined—as were persons with whom you could associate.  Recall Black Elk saying that his people, the Lakota Sioux, would kill those who did not speak their language.  Similarly, if an aboriginal person encountered someone in the outback, they would look to see if any identification mark was on the stranger.  If none could be detected, knives would be drawn.  Even within our Judeo-Christian tradition, a scarring rite designated “our people” with whom we could relate (i.e., the circumcision’s “mark of Abraham”).

All of this background is intended to stir thoughts of “what brings people together” in “love” relationships.  This is a critically important topic if Jesus, the Son of God, told us that the mark of his disciples would be their “love” for one another.  Biblical scholars have pointed out that “loving one’s neighbor” was nothing new—if taken at face value as reported in the Gospel.  As indicated, cultures everywhere had a similar injunction.  Namely, we’ll “love” our own kind! Our people!  We’re number one!

Coincidentally, this topic recently arose when Vice President Vance played the role of theologian and stated that Christians are called to love their family members first and foremost.  The current pope, Pope Leo, was quick to reply that Vance’s interpretation was erroneous, wrong, mistaken, or an incorrect understanding of the Gospel.  As indicated above, ALL cultures or ethnic groups or families prioritize their members—and don’t include “outsiders” or people outside their network of kith & kin.

Contrary to simply echoing what every culture lays down as its rule of interacting with others, Jesus set forth a NEW commandment.  When he said “love one another,” he was saying that his disciples would relate to ALL people as “fellow tribesmen” or as brothers and sisters.  When he said this, no one knew that his statement would be a biological fact of human ancestry.  That is, we are all elated—the earliest human ancestors emerged in what we today know as the African continent (and later diversifying into different shades of skin due to climate and geography).

This Christian understanding of “love” was a strategy given us for relating to all people, and not restricted to just “our” clan or tribe. Evidence of how early Christian behavior DIFFERED from everyone else is noticeable in a Roman emperor noting: “We Romans take care of our needy.  The Jews take care of theirs.  But the Christians take care of everyone.”  Christians became a diverse people not simply united by tribal affiliation.  Looking at how they were bonded by their diversity (a Christian form of America’s “E Pluribus Unum”), a non-Christian said of our community “See how they love one another.”

Drawing from another Gospel passage, this same theme is at the heart of Jesus saying that even the scribes and Pharisees take care of their own—so there’s nothing unique to taking care of your people alone. This passage was likewise addressing the mark of Christian discipleship—a presence in the world that was “reaching out” to everyone.

Specifics of this overall behavior were cited by St. Paul, and here are some of the identifying marks of being Christian:  contribute in some way to the needs of the community; extend hospitality to strangers; bless those who persecute you (do not curse them); rejoice with those who rejoice & weep with those who weep; feel for the suffering of others/act to reduce it; be patient in suffering; live in harmony with one another; be a bridge builder; do not be arrogant and claim to be wiser than you are; associate with the lowly; do not repay anyone evil for evil; don’t just do what’s popular and run with fads, but instead do the “noble” course of action”; never avenge yourselves, but instead leave that to God; if your enemies (or anyone) are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink; do not give in to evil, but overcome evil with good. 

KINDNESS is the language which the deaf can hear, and the blind can see.  

Lord, let my life be such that people will say, “If this be the servant, how must the Master be?” 

In these weeks after Easter, scripture readings include passages from Acts of the Apostles.  This book is Luke’s second work, and it takes up where his Gospel left off.  Namely, he’s now showing how the Holy Spirit moved the first Christians to spread the word of God—revealed in Jesus—to the ends of the earth (Rome—symbol of the world this empire ruled).  In a way, this second work could just as well be titled the “Activities of the Apostles,” and we could even say that this work is not as yet finished.  We’re simply in Chapter 2025—and WE are the apostles whose behavior will be handed down to posterity.

What would YOUR paragraph in this Chapter 2025 tell of YOUR activities as a child of God, a brother or sister in Christ?

What’s interesting about today’s reading from Acts is that it tells of the early followers encountering Gentiles.  This audience was not particularly familiar with the Hebrew scriptures—so the apostles were forced to SOMEHOW communicate who God was, and who Jesus was  in revealing “our Father who art in heaven.”  The interesting aspect of this is that we are in the same position as those apostles were. 

In America and the world at large, countless people are really uninformed about what Jesus means—thus making our role the very same one we read of today.  It’s WE who must preach to the Gentiles in our families, neighborhoods, country, and world (even those modern Gentiles who SAY they’re Christian—but who espouse beliefs and behaviors that are not at all what Jesus taught.

This past week’s readings reported the death of Christianity’s first martyr (i.e., first after Jesus was martyred).  This week we read of Stephen being stoned to death for preaching the Word of God.  What jumps out at us when reading his story—is a reference to who was present at the stoning.  Namely, we are told that Saul was present in his role of rounding up Christians in order to jail them.  He may even have picked up a stone and threw it at Stephen.

What hits us where we live, however, is what HAPPENS to Saul later on when he’s traveling to Damascus (Syria).  This Saul guy, the persecutor of Christians, had a “conversion experience.”  He realized what he had been doing and believed was all wrong.  Instead of persecuting Christians, the newly awakened “Paul” commits himself to up-building the faith community.  It is this part of his story that should speak to your experience.  How?  Read on.

If you ever have an experience of realizing you did something that you are not proud of, you are experiencing what Saul did.  He seems to have confronted the reality that he “committed the unforgivable sin.”  And so it is with us.  We realize that we’ve been traveling in the wrong direction. But we are somehow made aware of God’s forgiveness being the strong force that can motivate our becoming a great apostle (as occurred with Saul/Paul). 

As occurs throughout the Bible, ordinary or unlikely people are called to accomplish great things.  Who would have thought that this guy who watched Stephen die would one day be a martyr like him?  And so it is with OUR story.  God over-rides our past and leads us into a new beginning.   

As for Mother’s Day, it’s hard to believe that this national holiday was originally part of a protest movement.  In 1858, Anna Reeves Jarvis of West Virginia organized people in West Virginia and elsewhere in Appalachia to protest the poor water sanitation that was harming or killing people.  Come the Civil War, she got women to care for the Civil War wounded on both sides.  She was aided in her effort to stop wars by Julia Ward Howe (author of the “Battle Hymn of the Republic”).  Too many women were losing too many sons in war, so it was women who protested war—their effort then evolving into protests against working conditions for young and old who were being taken advantage of in the work place.

As the 19^th century was coming to an end, writers like Charles Dickens in England and Upton Sinclair in the U.S. exposed the abuse of workers, women, and children (think of Mr. Scrooge, Tiny Tim, and others).  Come the 20^th century, big business saw it could make a killing on Mother’s Day by selling flowers, candy, and other niceties for “mothers.”  Sure enough, in 1913, “Mother’s Day” came into being throughout Congress.

Industries supported the idea of a Mother’s Day that saw people spend their money, but the story deserves more than just a jaundiced view of economics favoring owners versus workers.  Mother’s Day symbolizes what people can do to change society—the right to vote for women being one more offshoot of what was originally a social issue.  Jesus himself would have “marched” with Anna Reeves Jarvis and Julia Ward Howe.

When I think of mothers, I’m always reminded of my experience of “mothering.”  In my case, it took place with my raising a boxer puppy.  He was with me 24 hours a day for the most part—in my office at Nouvel Catholic Central for 5 years, and in my presence many hours each day of 8 years and 2 months in total.  I taught him what a good dog did and what bad dogs do—teaching him like mothers teach so many things to their little ones.

When he died, I cried my eyes out.  But I also thanked God for giving me a glimpse of what mothers feel when raising their children.  We honor mothers, or anyone, who embodies the great virtues of motherhood.  Caring for their young, they symbolize how we should regard others.  So thank you, moms.  Your contribution has been much appreciated.

In the weeks after Easter, we have readings from The Acts of the Apostles.  Written by the Gospel writer Luke, this work takes up where his Gospel ends.  We thus have a 2-part work that shows how Jesus was born and eventually went to Jerusalem where he met his death and where he rose FROM the dead.  Acts begins with what scholars refer to as “post-resurrection” narratives.  Today’s reading is one of them.

Notice how there appears to be a difference between Jesus and the bodily form in which he manifests his new life.  Be it Magdalene speaking with a gardener, apostles speaking with a traveler on the road to Emmaus, or fishermen not recognizing it was Jesus on the shore—there seems to be a challenge to recognizing Jesus as an alive person.  Then something happens such that they DO recognizes him at some point.  Even today’s reading has Peter HEAR John say that the man on the shore is Jesus.  Peter himself went after Jesus because John DID see him and TOLD him where Jesus was.  Sort of like today when some people are graced with seeing Christ alive in others?   And some DON’T.  Couldn’t Peter recognize him?  Did he have to be TOLD that the man on the shore was Jesus?  Sort of like how WE often enough need to be told by someone where, exactly, Jesus has “appeared” to us in our experience.

These stories often report a sighting of Jesus at a meal context (e.g., breakfast today with bread mentioned) nearby—with Jesus taking the bread and passing it to those gathered.  We are bludgeoned with what, exactly, the underlying point of these experiences is.  Namely, these post-resurrection narratives show how people experienced the risen Lord.  How did they?  Through the breaking of bread, the Eucharist.  These experiences of Jesus after his death tell readers that they, too, can experience Jesus by being part of the sacramental community that breaks bread and shares it.

Today’s gospel mentions the disciples netting 153 fish, and citing this marvelous haul is reminding listeners of the story that Jesus is “the Christ/Messiah” symbolized by the fish!  Why a fish should remind listeners?  Because the Greek word for fish is “icthus,” it became a symbol for the risen lord since its letters were an acronym standing for “Jesus Christ Son of God Savior.”

So Luke’s Gospel ends with Jesus risen and Acts goes on to report how the faith community did, in fact, spread to the ends of the earth (symbolized by this book ending with the Church established in Rome—where Peter and Paul, and many others, were martyred).  Remember, “Rome” symbolizes “the ends of the earth” because the Roman Empire governed all lands and people. This book’s basic theme is that through the Holy Spirit, the “Church” spread from Jerusalem to Hemlock and Merrill.  And this weekend’s first communicants are going to be witnesses, we hope, to seeing and BEING Jesus ALIVE in our everyday experience.

Today’s Gospel profoundly reports our responsibility as church-going, members of the “Body of Christ.”  How’s that?  Well, remember during Holy Week when Peter denied Jesus three times?  Traditionally, today’s passage is supposed to hammer home Jesus forgiving Peter for his cowardice to assert his identity as a follower of Jesus.  Three times Peter is asked if he loves the Lord, and three times Peter professes that he does.  Okay, you can see this passage reminding us that Jesus is asking Peter to assert his connection to him.  However, there’s MORE that we are being told.

When Jesus says “Feed my sheep,” he’s equivalently saying to Peter something to this effect: “If you really do ‘love’ me as you say you do, then show your love by taking care of the people of God, all my ‘children’ on earth—my ‘flock’ of ‘lambs and sheep’ who need your pastoral care.”  In short, this anecdote about Jesus questioning Peter is OUR call to discipleship.  If we truly DO “love” God, we are people who do it by ‘loving’ others in caring for their needs, the basic necessities that they need to live, the land on which they live, and the food and health care that they need to survive.  If this sounds like Christian identity entails political action that brings justice to all, it’s because Jesus himself was a community organizer, a political activist, and one who took care of the many needs of people who came to him.  Our identity is nothing less.

You and I might say we love God and show it by going to Church or praying, but that’s one-half of what makes us Catholic.  We come to church to do as the disciples did—SEE where Jesus exists in our lives (or does not), and receive communion and the other sacraments so that we be up to performing the role of discipleship. 

Our first communicants this week begin a life of wondering just what it is that sees their family members, and now them, received a round piece of what they’re told is “bread” and a sip of wine from a chalice.  They join centuries of tradition that has seen countless people do what they’re doing today. They will continue to hear about and perhaps experience what generations have reported.

For example they will see people who call themselves “Christian” drink wine, or grape juice, and have regular bread or unleavened bread.  Some will gather at a table or what they call an altar (or call it both).  They’ll hear reference to the experience being that of a “Mass” or memorial meal or communion service, the Eucharist, or a sacrament.  

For some it makes present Christ’s suffering and thus a place where we feel his empathy for us and our varied sufferings—while they will see others celebrate joy of being fed by God and given God’s love for them (to which they shout “alleluia.”  Some Christian gatherings will invite all to break bread and pass the cup (chalice) while others will restrict access to certain persons only.

For some it makes present the real, physical body of Christ, for others it is understood to make Christ present in a tangibly spiritual way.  Our first communicants hear that the bread and wine that they are given—are visible signs of an invisible reality.  That “invisible reality” is what they heard at Christmas sung as Emmanuel—God with us.  At communion, our young ones experience signs that remind them that God is with them (as they confront hurt or rejection or happiness or victories or defeats).

This “church-going” experience of “first communion” will present itself to them at every Catholic church around the world, and they are now able to “receive communion” at any of those churches.  Thus, this bread and wine is a special bond between every Catholic with every other Catholic.  Here at home or abroad, they will see people received once a year, or every day.  Some will receive rejoicing and some tearfully receiving.  Our first communicants will hear different understandings of “communion” and spend their lives experiencing it in different ways.

They may hear the ancient prayer that said something to the effect that “Many grains have gone into the making of this bread—grains crushed to feed us.  We, like the grains, are many who have been hurt but who, like the grains can become one bread able to feed many.  And like grapes crushed, so have we witnessed the crushing of lives—so we ask the God of crushed wheat and crushed grapes to nourish us so that we can be a source of life for others.

This week’s reading from John is rich with topics that stimulate reflection.  Before looking at some of those topics, let’s first look at the author himself.  Contrary to what you may have thought (as I did), this writer named John is NOT the apostle John.  Many fine thinkers throughout Christian history have concluded that we’re reading a Gospel written by “the disciple whom Jesus loved,” the apostle who was there at the crucifixion, the apostle who was next to Jesus at the Last Supper!  But contemporary scholars have drawn other conclusions.

“We may never know for certain who wrote the Gospel of John, any more than we can know who wrote the books of Matthew, Mark and Luke. We do know that John is a gospel apart, however. Matthew, Mark and Luke are so alike in their telling that they are called the Synoptic Gospels, meaning “seen together”—because the parallels are clear when they are looked at side by side. Matthew and Luke follow the version of events in Mark, which is thought by scholars to be the earliest and most historically accurate Gospel. John, however, does not include the same incidents or chronology found in the other three Gospels, and the fact that it is so different has spurred a debate over whether John’s Gospel is historical or not.”

While some argue that John’s book is good history, the author’s purpose in writing is NOT to provide a day-to-day, week-to-week, month, etc. account of what Jesus did  Rather, he writes in order to accomplish a goal.  Namely, “that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing you may have life in his name.”  John’s account appears to show a good knowledge of Jerusalem, but accurate reporting is a “tool” he uses to offer LIFE to the reader, or his faith community.

He’s kind of a salesman—only he’s not Madison Avenue selling nice cars and fine fashions that TANTALIZE, TEASE, and SEDUCE us into THINKING we’ll find “life” in material creations.  He’s a salesman, yes, selling in his Gospel a strategy for finding a fulfilling life in living the vision Jesus offers.  The epistles of John and the Book of Revelation combine with this Gospel to become known as “Johannine” literature, and scholars think they were written by the Johannine community between the years 70-110.  Could an apostle at the cross in 30 A.D. be writing in the year 110??  Probably not, so the consensus opinion is that we’re dealing with works written by more than one individual.

This Gospel is the only one that refers to Jesus being “nailed” to the cross—an important detail since Romans TIED most people who were crucified. Another unique element of this gospel is that the most profound attestation of faith is proclaimed—by Thomas when he says “My Lord and my God!”  What a profound insight we’re given in this scene.  NOT that Thomas makes a pious statement of faith, but that someone who at one point in his life was paralyzed with doubt—could emerge from that tomb and do a 180-degree change.  Ever feel “doubt” about your faith in God?  Well, as today’s story reports, YOU are Thomas (since they call him “Didamus”—and that word means TWIN.  Who is his twin?  YOU.  But also like him we are called to assert our faith—and in doing so FIND LIFE TO THE FULLEST. 

And this “life” that we’re to find entails us being “sent” by Jesus as apostles to the people with whom we interact at home, work, play, parish, or ANYWHERE we go.  The passage says that Jesus “breathed” on the apostles—which could sound like some strange behavior—but instead, we’re reading about a profound theological point.  The word “breathe” in this passage is the same “breathe” word used in Genesis when God “breathed” over the waters of creation.  It is the Spirit of God that brought about all that exists, and it is that same Spirit that is given us at our commissioning as apostles.  We are baptized and confirmed with the Spirit upon us—to help us be people “sent” on mission (like the apostles).  So just as those 11 guys were in a room wondering “Where do we go from here?”  Try and hear God saying to you that you are sent on a mission uniquely yours—since, as stated last week, you are an ordinary person sent to accomplish extraordinary things (just like the apostles—and numerous other biblical characters).

As an author of biographies, I find today’s passage has a really strong “ring of authenticity.”  I say this because the author says exactly what I’ve experienced when writing.  Namely, my experience has been that “I could write many more things about BLACK ELK, but I had to stop at some point”—because if I wrote them all down—there would not be enough libraries in the world to hold all the books that would have to be written (more-or-less what John says about Jesus).  I’ve had the same experience as John, the writer.  The “literary device” he (and I) use when making this claim is “hyperbole.”  We’re exaggerating in order to slam our point home (in reality, there would of course be enough libraries to hold books that reported the activities of these 2 men.  When I see this resemblance of my writing experience to that of John’s, his Gospel becomes more immediate to me. 

John does not list the Twelve Disciples and names at least one disciple, Nathanael, whose name is not found in the Synoptics.  Readers might realize this difference and wonder if the writer left out any other names of people who were close to the Lord.  Readers might personalize this textual difference by then musing to themselves “Yes, John left out MY name.”  And that is precisely what all of the Gospels are intended to do—draw the reader into them and find their identity and vocation.

With the Pope’s passing, many commentators are rendering an array of judgments.  Conservative media have been quick to criticize the man’s representation of the Gospel.  Others, however, have expressed gratitude for his efforts to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, shelter the homeless, protect the oppressed, and save the earth from our destruction of it.  From the New York Times, the Pew Research Group released the following:

90% of Catholic Democrats gave Pope Francis a favorable rating while 63% of Catholic Republicans echoed Fox programming (negative toward Francis).  Democrats supported Francis on issues such as climate change and the limits of capitalism.  Pew also said:

· 83% of U.S. Catholics want the Church to allow the use of contraception.

· 75% say the Church should allow Catholics to take Communion even if they are unmarried and living with a romantic partner.

· 69% say priests should be allowed to get married.

· 64% say women should be allowed to become priests.

54% say the Church should recognize the marriages of gay and lesbian couples.

Despite the above percentages regarded as “liberal,” the American church itself seems likely to continue moving rightward (conservative) into the next papacy. More than three out of four young priests describe themselves as theologically conservative.

Those who see themselves as traditionalists feel discomfort liturgically. In 2021, Pope Francis issued the equivalent of an executive order limiting where and when priests could administer the Traditional Latin Mass, the Mass celebrated worldwide for centuries until the reforms of Vatican II. Pope Francis seemed to see supporters of the older Mass as rejecting the church’s modernization more broadly, and dismissed the formal vestments preferred by many traditionalist priests as “Grandma’s lace.”

With Francis being a former Jesuit, the General (the “superior” of the Order) wrote the following letter to all members of the Society of Jesus.

Dear Brothers,

The Society of Jesus shares in the sorrow of all the people of God, in union with many other people of good will, at the end of the earthly life of Pope Francis. It does so with deep feeling and with the serenity born of the firm hope in the resurrection through which the Lord Jesus opened for us the door to full participation in the life of God.

We mourn the passing of one who was placed at the service of the Universal Church and exercised the Petrine ministry for more than 12 years. At the same time, we feel the departure of our dear brother Jesuit. We have shared the same spiritual charism and the same manner of following the Lord.  We are disquieted by his departure, and yet a deep sense of gratitude springs spontaneously from our hearts to God the Father for so much good received through the service of a whole lifetime and for the way in which Pope Francis knew how to guide the Church during his pontificate, in communion and continuity with his predecessors in the endeavor to put into practice the spirit and guidelines of the 2nd Vatican Council.

Pope Francis kept a watchful eye on what was happening in the world to offer a word of hope to all. His extraordinary encyclicals Laudato Si’ and Fratelli tutti reveal not only a lucid analysis of the state of humanity, but, in the light of the Gospel, they also offer ways to eliminate the causes of so much injustice and to promote reconciliation.

For Pope Francis, dialogue with one another, between political rivals or between religions and cultures, is the way to continue to propose peace and social stability, to create environments of mutual understanding, care for one another and support in solidarity. On many occasions, we listened to his words, his pastoral reflection and we admired his tireless activity, as he proposed initiatives or joined those of others, always convinced of the value of the word and of encounter.

How could we forget the extraordinary moment of prayer he himself called for in the face of the coronavirus emergency in March 2020, in an empty St Peter’s Square? Or the constant concern for peace in the face of intolerance and wars that threaten international coexistence and generate untold suffering among the most defenseless. Or the empathy of his heart with the immense flow of forcibly displaced persons throughout the world, especially those compelled to risk their lives crossing the Mediterranean.

In 2013, when greeting the faithful gathered in St. Peter’s Square to celebrate the newly elected Pope, we already find two key dimensions of his ministry: the importance of walking together, Bishop and people, on a path of fraternity, love, trust and hope; and the centrality of prayer and the importance given to the development of the Synod of Bishops.   In no way does it diminish the Primacy of Peter or episcopal responsibility; on the contrary, it allows it to be exercised with the conscious participation of all the baptized, of the people of God on the way, recognizing the presence and action of the Lord through his Holy Spirit in the life of the ecclesial community.

The invitation to prayer is impressed on our memory: Let us pray together, Bishop and people. I ask you to pray to the Lord to bless me.  Throughout his pontificate, he concluded his speeches, including the Sunday Angelus, with the same invitation: please do not forget to pray for me. He never tired of reminding us how prayer is born of trust in God and familiarity with Him. In prayer, we can discover the secret of the life of the saints.  He pointed out to us an essential element of our identity. Pope Francis affirmed our service of the poor, inculturated, focused on service, and free from all worldly ambition.

Easter Sunday Reflections

We started Holy Week with Palm Sunday.  Recall that when Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a colt, his gesture was not just a wonderful day that broadcast people recognizing him as a great leader.  Rather, the events of this day were a socio-religious PROTEST.  Each year, the Roman governor (Pontius Pilate at that time) rode into Jerusalem on a carriage bedecked with gold & silver symbols of the Roman Gods who gave witness to the emperor being a God—his representative being the governor.  The day was a show of Roman power to the oppressed Israelites and others over whom the Romans ruled.  Resistance to these supernatural and natural powers should be unthinkable to those who witnessed the spectacle.

The Sadducees and other religious authorities had become “sell outs” to the Roman occupiers and had overseen he great Temple turned into a kind of Wall Street.  Recall Jesus overthrowing the tables of the traders?  That was but one of his protests against the occupying Roman foreigners who were oppressing the people and not serving them.  Seeing the Temple become a “den of thieves” with the wealthy lording it over the poor, Jesus dramatically showed that he was in solidarity with the people—as a kind, caring, outreaching leader who had come to serve and not be served.  Behaving this way guaranteed a warrant for his death. They didn’t execute Jesus because “he was a nice guy.”  No, he stepped on the toes of society’s privileged classes.

Holy Week saw us celebrate Jesus giving us the Eucharistic meal that tells us of his continuing presence as Emmanuel—“God with us.”  And Good Friday, with our reflection on the 14 stations, reminded us of our lives being a “station of the cross.”  On different days or in different life experiences, we are denying association with Jesus, or nailing him with words we direct at people, or crying like the women in seeing wrongs committed, or we’re Veronica trying to wipe the face of those who suffer.  As with all of Scripture, Good Friday slams home to us that the crucifixion is not just one day in history that took place 2000 years ago.  It is something that we see on the nightly news, in political leaders, corporations, and neighborhood homes.

Thankfully, we conclude Holy Week with readings on Saturday that remind us that God created the universe because God is love and wanted us to experience that love in the vistas of life all around us.  Contrary to what some misguided souls have preached, God made everything “good” (as Genesis reported).  And that includes you!   Importantly, we need to remember that creation is incomplete without YOU, me, us–each of us in our unique identities.  Moreover, we are reminded throughout Scripture and especially when we see the empty tomb on Easter Sunday—that no matter what crosses come our way, God has created us ordinary individuals to do extraordinary things.  That is why we can shout Halleluia! 

Holy Week begins with Palm Sunday. We listen to the Passion narrative and a selection that tells of people waving palm branches as they joyously celebrate Jesus arriving in Jerusalem on a colt.  The week is itself a symbol of each life here—Palm Sunday seeing us celebrate (as when your parents and grandparents celebrated your arrival in the world).  Joyous feelings come to mind as we think of small and great moments of happiness we’ve had throughout life.

As we wend our way through life, we have pleasant memories of being at table on feast days, birthdays, weddings, candlelight dinners, and other special or ordinary occasions.  And these events are distilled in the Holy Thursday “dinner” or supper that Jesus gave as a special reminder of his presence to us down through the centuries.  But Palm Sunday’s salute to joyous occasions and Holy Thursday’s symbolizing togetherness at a dining table—give way to the tears of Good Friday.  This day represents the many moments we experience throughout life that send us into sadness or hurt of some kind. 

Holy Saturday sees us thinking about the world’s creation, the mistakes and victories of our ancestors-in-the-faith, and finally, the coming of Jesus.  This day sees us in darkness and pierces our dark spirit with a candle that lights our minds.  And so, we are led into Easter Sunday—where the graves that make life bleak are gone, and hope is born in our hearts.  In short, each day of this week broadcasts what we all experience. 

Ritually, we imagine our life and try to realize that the path we’ve walked CAN lead to a new life for our spirit.  Holy Week also makes us look at ourselves as the fair weather friend of Palm Sunday, the table companion of others on Thursday, absent when the going gets tough on Friday, and looking for hope on Saturday.  As with all of Scripture, but especially the Passion reading brings to life the many characters that played a role in the final days of Jesus.  Each one of these people is YOU at different times in your life.

Do yourself a favor and spend time reflecting on the men and women who were part of the original Passion story.  If one or another character stays in your mind more than others, that person’s role MIGHT be a grace you’re receiving at this time of year.  Maybe there’s something in that character’s experience that you need to reconsider.  Maybe there’s a wake-up call on something in your life.  Maybe there’s an inspiration you need take to heart.  Maybe there’s a behavior you need to abandon or adopt.  Let the story’s different characters speak to your spirit. 

I’ll seed your thought by calling to mind some of the people who lived the events of that first Holy Week.

Judas: Do you have a price and betray values you won’t uphold if challenged? You remain silent when you should speak up? 

Chief priests:  Do you criticize more than upbuild others?

Peter:  Can you play a leadership role but decline?  You have legs of straw?

Jesus afraid in Gethsemane:  You have legitimate fears—that’s okay to have them. 

Pontius Pilate:    Do you wash your hands of involvement?

Barabbas:  Do you benefit at other people’s expense (sweatshops)?

Simon of Cyrene: Do you help others carry their cross?

Soldiers whip Jesus: Are you racist? Are you cruel to people/animals?

Mary Magdalene & women at the cross: You’re presence to others in need?

Dismas the good thief: Do you admit you made a mistake and ask for forgiveness?

In each of the persons above, we see the Jesus-story play itself out today, e.g., how he is still being crucified, how we are washing our hands of involvement, how we are denying it’s our problem, and how we confront our fear of crosses.  This is a week in which we are confronted with our need for resurrection or new life somewhere in our daily behaviors.  We’re being called from ruts to renewal.

Important to keep in mind, as I regularly call to your attention, is this.  Namely, the Bible is filled with stories about people who are, in some way, you and I.  The theme that unites so many of these people in Scripture is that we see that “God calls ordinary people to accomplish extraordinary things.”  That’s YOU who God is calling.

Another Way To Look At Palm Sunday

Palm Sunday celebrations often miss an uncomfortable truth about what actually took place this day in the life of Jesus.  At the time, it was a deliberate act of theological and political confrontation. It wasn’t just pageantry; it was protest.  On that first Palm Sunday, there was another procession entering Jerusalem. From the west came Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor, riding a warhorse and flanked by armed soldiers bedecked in the full pageantry of an oppressive empire. Every year during Passover, a Jewish festival celebrating liberation from Egyptian oppression and slavery, Pilate entered Jerusalem to suppress any unrest set off by that memory.

His arrival wasn’t ceremonial; it was tactical — a calculated show of force, what the Pentagon might now call “shock and awe.” It displayed not only Rome’s power but also Rome’s theology. Caesar was not just the emperor; he was deified and called “Son of a God” on coins and inscriptions. His rule was absolute, and the peace it promised came through coercion, domination and the threat of violence.  Ironically, the current Administration has lost one court decision after another as it seeks dictatorial power and retribution against its perceived enemies. The parallel between our era and the first century is an unfolding nightmare from a Gospel perspective.

The Saducees we read about in Scripture allied themselves with the Roman authorities and could be associated with today’s billionaires who oversee an economy that benefits the wealthy (e.g., your 401K takes a hit this week as the wealthy buy up stocks now being sold at lower prices than that of a month ago).  Meanwhile, the emperor could care less that the price of eggs is higher than when he promised to bring their cost down.  Return now to Jesus that first Palm Sunday.

He entered the city not on a warhorse but on a colt, not with battalions but with beggars. His followers were peasants, fishermen, women, and children — people without standing or status. They waved palm branches — symbols of Jewish resistance to occupation — and cried out “Hosanna!” which means “Save us.” Save us from a system that passes itself off as wise stewardship (slashing medical research, education, poverty programs, and all outreaches to those in need).  Save us from those who deceptively endorse greed with pious language and prayer vigils that have Congressmen chastising a chaplain who encourages the president to be a merciful leader—as Jesus was.  Palm Sunday’s Jesus should be seen as a parody of imperial power: a deliberate mockery of Roman spectacle and a prophetic enactment of a kingdom built on justice.    

The next day, Jesus walked into the Temple, the heart of Jerusalem’s religious and economic life, and flipped the tables in the marketplace, which he described as “a den of robbers.” The Temple wasn’t just a house of prayer. It was a financial engine, operated by complicit leaders under the constraints and demands of the occupying empire. Jesus shuts it down. This is what gets him killed—the Wall Street of his time in concert with banksters and government.

Jesus wasn’t killed for preaching love, or healing the sick, or discussing theology routinely debated in the Temple’s courtyards, or blasphemy (the punishment for which was stoning). Rome didn’t crucify philosophers or miracle workers. Rome crucified people like Jesus who spoke truth to power. The sign nailed above his head — “King of the Jews” — was a political indictment and public warning. Like with the killing of the prophets before him, the message sent with Jesus’s death was that those who demand justice will inevitably find themselves crushed.  Sound familiar?

We, too, live in the shadow of empire. Ours doesn’t speak Latin or wear togas, but its logic is familiar. Our economy prioritizes the 1 percent and puts corporate profits over worker dignity. Our laws enforce inequality in the criminal justice system, education and health care. Our military-industrial complex would be the envy of Rome. Note that budget-cutting never negatively affects military spending. 

This week’s Gospel gives us one of Christianity’s most well-known lines: “You who are without sin, cast the first stone.”  The incident from which this quote is taken tells us about “the woman caught in adultery.”  Contemporary minds might ponder: “What about the man?  Where is he when the religious authorities are considering capital punishment?”  Before reflecting on how this real-life drama is played out in our lives, let’s first take a look at the historical context.

Recall that we’re reading this story from John’s Gospel.  The other 3 are called the “synoptic” Gospels because they, Matthew, Mark, Luke, share a common perspective.  John writes in a different fashion and presents a Jesus whom John seems to have recorded at length!  Scholars tell us that Matthew and Luke drew upon Mark’s text (the first of the three written) and that they put their theological spin on how the Jesus story unfolded.  People often think the 4 Gospel authors were apostles, but none of them were.

There’s some question as to whether or not today’s anecdote was even written by John.  The earliest texts of John did not contain it, but eventually, the woman’s experience was reported and subsequent versions of John retained it. 

The historical setting is just after the Romans outlawed the Israelite “Sanhedrin” (their legal body) from executing people (as prescribed in the law of Moses).  Asking Jesus if they should stone the woman to death is thus putting Jesus in a possible conflict with the civil authorities.  If he replies, “Yes, stone her,” he is telling Israelite officials to violate the civil law.  If he says, “Do NOT stone her,” he is violating the Mosaic tradition.  In short, he’s between a rock (no pun intended) and a hard place.

So we’re told he bends down and starts doodling in the dirt.  For us, this might seem peculiar, but in this part of the Mediterranean region, this behavior was typical of peasants who were taking time to reflect when distraught (thus suggesting this scene was historically grounded in its detailed noting of a typical real-life behavior).

How does Jesus get out of this “no win” situation?  He did what politicians do today!  Instead of answering a tough question, they reply with a question of their own or change the subject (so that they will not be held accountable on some topic).  However, politicians “change the subject” so that they do not have to admit one or another of their actions is misguided.  Jesus forces the Pharisees and Scribes to look at themselves—and evaluate their living of the faith (which is what we’re supposed to do during Lent). 

He has forced this “holier-than-thou” crowd to consider their sinfulness.  Were they perhaps “guilty” of disobeying one of the OTHER “sins” that were spelled out in the Book of Leviticus (e.g., Blasphemy, i.e., speaking sacrilegiously about God or sacred things; profane talk, Cursing or disobeying Parents, Adultery, i.e., sexual behavior that contradicts the financial agreement struck between 2 families, Homosexual Acts, Incest—rules that vary from culture to culture, even in the U.S., Human Sacrifice, Witchcraft and Spiritism, i.e., belief and invocation of spirits thought to influence human behavior, Working on the Sabbath).  Keep in mind that different cultures place a “taboo” (or cite as illegal or “sinful”), and when doing so, do not read from the same global script.  For example, there are cultural behaviors in different parts of the world that are customary in some places but that would send a person to prison for many years here in the U.S.

Today’s Gospel contributes to Church teaching that condemns capital punishment.  As Catholics, we say that each life is important to God (both victim and perpetrator).  No child of God should be “legally” murdered based on the varieties of cultural traditions or based solely on cathartic revenge.  Besides, Jesus was killed “legally” and for the revenge and self-interest of some.  How can we, as Christians, unleash this same death-dealing behavior on others?

This is, of course, a provocative issue for many people.  The U.S. is one of 50 countries that have the death penalty (i.e., certain states have it) while 150 countries DON’T have it.  Countries like China, Russia, Iran, Saudi Arabia, andother non-Western nations that have a lame human rights record make up the 44 other capital punishment countries.  Since studies have shown that the death penalty is NOT a deterrent to murder, and since authoritarian countries use the death penalty to kill political opponents, vengeance and corruption are further reasons why the Church is against it.  As with so many other issues, just ask yourself: “Would you see Jesus endorsing vengeance and authoritarian corruption?”   But there’s more to this New Testament drama.

Picture yourself in the crowd, and Jesus looks in your direction saying, “You who are without sin, cast the first stone.”  Would you pause and reflect before acting, or would you heave a stone as hard as you could throw in the hope of hitting the woman?  And would you unthinkingly continue to find stones and do your best to see that she falls and dies?  And would you go to her now-dead body—and just look at the face of death?  Or would you, although she’d not hear you, say something like “I sure got you with some good ones.”  Picture yourself standing there—with nothing more to do and nothing to say, but just leave and later wonder if she had breakfast yesterday morning after feeding her little dog.  Maybe later, you’d go to bed and reflect long enough to ask yourself, “What did throwing those stoned accomplish—other than adding my name to a long list of people who have killed someone?”

Picture, too, yourself as the woman.  You’re standing there, not sure of what just took place.  Jesus looks up at you and says something like, “You okay?”  You nod “yes” and wonder what he’s now going to say or do. Feeling totally powerless since her arrest, she is not sure what this man is going to say.  He stands up and smiles at her as he asks if she has a place to stay, and she nods “yes” again.  In a tone of voice she finds caring, she hears him say just a few words that encourage her to be the good woman who God calls her to be.  As she walks away, she feels the weight of rejection and hate fade away with each step.  She smiles with hope and thinks to herself that she wants to be like that man who just spoke to her—and not like the others who condemned her.  She felt as if she had risen from the grave and looked forward to helping others have the same experience.    And so it is with each of us.  We are a person in the crowd, and we are the woman. 

We reject people because we don’t like them for some reason.  We are also not perfect, and not everyone likes us.  We are like the woman.  We are not perfect.  As you look at your life and think of the “unforgivable” sins or misdeeds that you’ve committed, try to get a sense of Jesus looking at you affectionately and saying something tailored in language you can appreciate—that there are no “unforgivable” sins in your life.  There is only now—you and I speaking.  Jesus says that you should begin your life now and leave those behaviors of the past behind.